The Heat is in the Tools
by Miss Construed
Summary: Susannah Stackhouse was doing well on her five year plan. Only one more goal to accomplish - marry Bill Compton. Sit back and enjoy as one Mr. Alcide Herveaux throws a kink into that plan. AU/AH no Eric . Rated M for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**The Heat Is In The Tools**

This term is used when someone complains because it is cold, they may need to be reminded that if they work harder and use the tools more frequently their body will naturally generate heat.

**Chapter 1**

The lilting music poured out of my handbag, alerting me that someone was trying to reach me. My ringtone was the one area in my profession that I allowed myself to play; the one area I let my hair down, as it was.

I set down the throw pillow, placing it just so to show off the design to its best advantage before turning on my well-clad heel to answer the call.

"Stackhouse Design," I said into the tiny speaker on my blackberry; my lifeline, as my brother Jason had liked to call it. In a way, I could see the humor in that, though he hadn't said it to be funny. It was true that I never let it out of my sight. Well, I couldn't really. I hadn't become successful by accident. No, it was a lot of hard work that had rocketed me to my current position as one of the nation's most sought after industrial designers. Some might get the title confused with the types of ladies that come in and tell you what types of curtains and throw pillows would suit your space best (though I did do that as well); no, with my background in industrial design, I was brought in at the very early stages of a project. The empty shells of buildings were my playground. I orchestrated everything from the layout to the finishing touches. My specialty had quickly become renovated properties, and real-estate moguls throughout the country were willing to pay the price for my services.

"Susannah," the familiar voice sounded from the phone's speaker. "I was hoping to catch you at a good time."

"William," I said, with a smile. William Compton was one of my best clients. His family was from old, Southern money and he'd developed a passion for real-estate investment at an early age. He was young for the position he was in, only five or six years older than I was. But unlike other men my age that I'd encountered, William Compton had manners of yesteryear. He was the quintessential Southern gentleman, and one of my favorite clients. He was also one of Boston's most eligible bachelors, a distinction that had not escaped me.

"Susannah, I thought we agreed that you would call me Bill." I could almost see him shaking his head with a laugh on the other side of the phone, his rich dark brown hair falling over his equally rich brown eyes.

"Of course," I said, reaching down to smooth my pencil skirt over my thighs. "Bill."

"Much better. Listen, Susannah," his voice changed. There was an edge of uncertainty, almost nervousness to it. "I was wondering if you were free for dinner tonight."

I allowed myself to have a glimmer of hope that he was finally initiating the change in our relationship that we had been tiptoeing around these past few months. Our relationship had begun to change when his divorce had been finalized last year. Two months after the divorce, he had invited me to attend a charity function as his guest, and the frequency of our non-business interaction had increased. The newspapers speculated about our relationship, though he had never made a move to make us anything but platonic, much to my chagrin.

I generally made a rule to never date my clients, though believe me, I'd been asked plenty. It made things messy, and I didn't like messy. But there was something about Bill Compton that intrigued me. I had been raised in the South myself, and my Gran had always preached manners and decorum. She would have loved Bill Compton, with his gentlemanly ways. It also didn't hurt that he fit my five year plan perfectly. He was good-looking, wealthy, had the same sensibilities, and most importantly ran in the circles I had climbed into. I knew that sounded cold and heartless, and maybe it was a bit, but I'd made a new life for myself ever since Gran died, and I'd left Bon Temps behind me for good.

I'd been raised in a different world than I lived in now. While we weren't poor, we also weren't very well off. My parents had died when I was young, almost too young to remember them. Gran had raised Jason and me as her own, and always made sure that we never went without. She'd showered us with love and affection, and I didn't even realize we didn't have what others did. That is, not until I was in high school and the rich girls made fun of my homemade dress. I made a vow that day that I would make something of myself, and I had. I finished my four years at Virginia Tech and graduated with honors. I worked under other designers for a few years, and was in Boston working on a project when I'd received the phone call from my brother that Gran had passed away.

I'd spent so many years chasing after my dream, so much time and energy, that I hadn't really been back to see Gran more than a handful of times. That call had been devastating. I had taken the first flight available down to Shreveport, where my friend Tara had picked me up and driven me back to Gran's farmhouse. The week and the funeral had passed by in a blur, and before I knew it, my brother Jason and I were sitting in Gran's front parlor with Portia Bellefleur, who had helped Gran with her last will and testament. If I thought Gran's death was a shock, the result of the reading was even more so.

At some point, Gran had made some savvy investments and the sum she had left to be split between Jason and me was astounding. Looking around the farmhouse she'd been born in and died in, you never would have guessed what she had.

The money left to us had changed our lives. Jason and I had never been close, but, as often happens with death and inheritance, we split even further apart. Gran had left me her farmhouse, which Jason had seen as an injustice. It wasn't as if the farmhouse was worth much, and Jason had left the place himself the day he turned 18, so it wasn't as if he was getting kicked out. No, he was upset that I'd been left more than he had. I hadn't talked to him since that day. He had taken his share of Gran's estate and ran off with his new wife, Crystal Norris. Last I heard, they were living on some island in the Pacific.

I stayed in Bon Temps long enough to take care of Gran's things. And, just when I wasn't sure what I was going to do about the house, Tara had mentioned that she was looking for a place to live. I would have let her live in the house rent free – it was comforting just knowing someone would be there to maintain it – but she'd insisted on paying something. It was better than the alternative. I wasn't going to move back to Bon Temps, but I also wasn't ready to part with the place. It had been in our family for generations and I knew that Gran wanted to keep it that way.

As soon as Tara had moved in, I left Bon Temps and hadn't looked back since. The place had too many sad memories for me to stay. Gran had been the only tie, and now that she was gone, I would be happy never returning. I flew back to Boston where I promptly quit my job. I'd always wanted to own my own firm, to be my own boss. I figured I knew how to run the business – I'd practically been doing everything for my boss for two years. I set up shop in Boston, taking advantage of the inroads I'd made with a number of clients who came over to my new firm. Boston was far away from Bon Temps, far enough that I could continue to live my life without being reminded of who I used to be.

"Susannah?" Bill said, his voice pulling me out of my reverie.

"Sorry," I said, silently admonishing myself. "I would love to have dinner with you."

I heard him breathe a sigh of relief through the headset. "Excellent. Shall I send a driver to pick you up?"

"That would be lovely," I said, trying to keep my voice even. It wouldn't do to show too much emotion, not around someone like Bill Compton. He liked women who were in control of everything, something I had become adept at in the past few years. Ever since moving up to Boston, I'd learned to take most anything without belying my feelings. I was ready for this. I would make this happen tonight.

I had three hours until the car would arrive; three hours to put the finishing touches on the renovated space, rush home and prepare for my dinner. My date. I ran a hand over my hair, smoothing out the curls that threatened to come loose from the knot at the nape of my neck.

Tonight would be the night where everything changed.

…

Bill's driver arrived promptly at 7 pm.

I had quickly showered and spent at least thirty minutes debating what to wear. I didn't want to dress too provocatively, in the event that this was not a date, yet I knew that my business attire wouldn't be appropriate either. I had no idea where we were going, but Bill definitely was not a jeans type of guy. Then again I was not a type kind of girl. I could count the number of pants I owned on one hand. I liked to emphasize my femininity. There was something empowering about walking into a meeting with a contractor or a developer in a tailored skirt and heels. It set me apart from my competition.

After rifling through my perfectly organized closet (another of my specialties) I selected a sleeveless black dress. It was classic and flattering, evoking a sense of Jackie Kennedy. It was professional, in the event that this was a meeting, yet it skimmed my curves and was short enough to be appropriate in the event that this was a date.

When the driver knocked on my front door, I grabbed my new white swing coat that I had purchased in Paris. It had been an indulgence, certainly, but had the classic lines and style that would never be out of fashion.

The driver wound through the streets of the Back Bay, passing through Copley Square on the way to our final destination. The black Town Car pulled up alongside a new restaurant on the waterfront, and I was greeted by Bill the minute the door opened.

"Susannah," he said with a smile on his face, reaching down to clasp my hand in his own as he assisted me out of the car. "You're looking lovely, as usual."

I felt myself blush slightly under his assessing gaze and dropped my eyes to his black Italian shoes. He was dressed in a suit that was obviously tailored specifically for him. There would be no off-the-rack for a man like Bill Compton.

"Thank you Bill," I said with a smile as he hooked my hand under his arm.

"I reserved us a private room. I hope you don't mind."

"No, of course not."

He smiled down at me as he ushered me through the door of the restaurant. I had not had the chance to eat at Antonio's yet. It was one of those restaurants that had a waiting list months out unless you had connections, and there was no doubt that Bill Compton had connections. We wove through the candlelit tables of the main room, passing by couples who were gazing into each other's eyes. This was definitely not a restaurant where you took your business associates.

The private room was small and intimate. I admired the layout and lighting with my designer's eye – whoever had been responsible for the space knew what they were doing to set the mood.

Bill pulled out my chair and saw me seated before taking his own and ordering a bottle of Dom Perignon.

"Are we celebrating?" I asked with a smirk as the waiter poured the bubbly liquid into its flute.

"I'm hoping by the end of this meal, we will indeed have something to celebrate," he responded, tasting the champagne and nodding his approval to the waiter to pour my glass.

"Is that so?"

"Yes." Bill didn't say anything more, instead looking down to his menu. The anticipation was almost too much to bear. I had always disliked surprises, and he knew that. Though I couldn't lie that I was expecting whatever it was Bill wanted to discuss would be a cause for celebration.

I stared across the table at him for a moment before turning my attention to the menu. It was of no use really. No sooner had I read through the appetizers than Bill was ordering for the two of us. Even if he had excellent taste – which he did – I had never taken well to someone else making my decisions for me. I stamped down my urge to say something. Not now. If – nay, when – we moved into a more serious relationship, I would say something.

Once the waiter had left the room, Bill reached out and took a sip of his champagne, shutting his eyes as he rolled it on his tongue.

"Susannah," he said, his eyes still shut. He let my name hang in the air for a moment before fixing his gaze on me. "I would say that we've formed an agreeable relationship over these past few months, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes."

This was it. This was the moment I'd been waiting for.

"I believe we've transcended the typical business relationship." He unfolded his napkin and placed it on his lap meticulously. "And, as that is the case, I was hoping that you would be amenable to my suggestion."

Okay, so it wasn't the most romantic way someone had ever asked me to date them, but Bill wasn't your typical guy.

"Yes?" I asked.

"Well, it's not a typical request."

I wished he would just get it over with. The tension was too much.

"I wouldn't say our relationship is typical either," I said with a smile.

"No. Which is why I feel comfortable asking you this." His eyes searched my face before he continued. "I have something special I am hoping you'll help me out with."

Well, that was a bit odd sounding, but I nodded anyway.

"As you know, my Aunt Caroline passed away last month."

I nodded again. We'd discussed some of the properties she'd owned. But I didn't see how this played into this evening.

"This is a lot to ask on such short notice," he continued. "But there is one property that is especially important to me."

Maybe this wasn't a date. I could adapt.

"It was her home. It's been in the family for generations, in a small town I'm sure you've never heard of. My Uncle Jesse had a farmhouse not very far away from it now that I think of it, but that is beside the point. I went once as a small child, but didn't return until after my father died. It is quite rundown. I'm not asking you to restore it to its original glory; that is not my style as you know. But you have impeccable taste. I plan on moving there myself someday, and I want it to be a place where I could raise a family."

How could I be so off base? He was clearly in a relationship already. I silently scolded myself for hoping this would be anything else. Though, if I were dating Bill Compton, I wouldn't be pleased that he was having a romantic, candlelit dinner with his industrial designer. Or, come to think of it, that he'd been seen out in public with me so often. I wondered what she was like.

"I would love the opportunity to work on this project Bill," I said. I'd always wanted the opportunity to get into an old plantation home and update it. I could imagine the press I would be able to get once it was complete. "Would I be working with you? Or with your…"

"My…?" he asked, his eyes full of confusion as he met my gaze.

"Well, if you're planning on starting a family, I would assume that you'd want your… partner to be in on the details."

His confusion quickly turned into merriment as he shook his head. "Oh goodness, no. There is no one in my life like that at this stage. At least…" he trailed off, giving me a meaningful look. "It needs a woman's touch. It needs… _your touch."_

"Oh!" Oh indeed. Maybe I hadn't been off base after all.

"It would take months to complete, but I can't imagine anyone else doing it. You – your opinions – have come to mean a lot to me. I hope I am not overstepping here, but there is no one else I would want to work alongside. This would be a very," he paused, "hands on project. We would be spending a lot of time together in the preplanning stages. And of course time on the project." He stopped and looked at me, searching my face for a reaction.

"We've spent a lot of time together lately as it is. And we have worked closely together in the past Bill, on many projects."

"Yes, but this would be different."

"I can do different."

"I know you can," he said with a smile. "Which is exactly why I asked you. It would mean leaving Boston."

"I've left Boston for jobs before."

"You'd be gone for months."

Months with Bill Compton? I could handle that.

"I can rearrange my schedule I'm sure."

"We'd become quite… intimate."

_That's exactly what I was hoping for._

"Yes, well these types of projects tend to mean close working quarters."

He smiled at me and nodded.

"So you'll do it?"

"Yes!" I exclaimed, hoping that my excitement could be explained by the project and not because I was imagining my future life with Bill Compton and the checkmark on my five year plan.

"Wonderful!" His smile was genuine as he reached out and clasped my hand. "We can take my jet down to Bon Temps this weekend."

_Bon Temps?_

"Bon Temps? I thought you were raised in Savannah."

"I was," he said with a smile. "My Father and Aunt Caroline didn't see eye to eye, and Mother was from Savannah. But the Comptons are from Bon Temps. That's where the house is. Caroline was married, but never had any children. That's probably too much information for tonight. Like I said, you probably have never heard of it."

Oh, I'd heard of it alright. I scoured my brain, trying to think of how Bill Compton was associated with my Podunk town. I couldn't think of anyone named Caroline that lived there, certainly not Caroline Compton, though the house across the cemetery did have a man named Jesse living there for awhile. I couldn't remember his last name, which isn't surprising since he had modeled himself after Boo Radley. Hell, I didn't know if I could handle this, even if it did reach my end goal.

"Okay." I could do it. It wouldn't be easy, but I could do it. "I can call Dawson and see if he is available to come with us for the inspection." Dawson was my go-to for all of my projects. He'd agreed to work with me when I started my own business, and I used him and his team exclusively for my projects. We worked well together, meaning that he took direction well and never argued with me.

"About that," Bill said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "I know that you are fond of Dawson's team, and they have done a fine job for our previous projects. But…"

_But what? _I looked at him expectantly.

"There is a team in Shreveport that I would like to use for this project."

"You know that I only work with Dawson," I said slowly.

"Yes, I know that. But I have used _Herveaux and Son_ on all of my projects in the South. They are excellent. They specialize in these types of projects, and I would not trust anyone else with my family home." The firm set of his mouth told me that this was non-negotiable.

I pulled my hand out of his and sat back, quickly thinking over this request. The pros far outnumbered the cons. I could work with anyone. I had worked with any number of contractors before I started Stackhouse Design.

"Alright," I said, "but they must be willing to work with me."

"Alcide and his team are very professional," Bill assured me. "They have an excellent reputation and track record. I'm sure you will get along splendidly."

Our discussion was abruptly halted when the waiter arrived with our meals, and that was that. I'd agreed to go back to a town I'd never wanted to return to, and work with a team I didn't know. It was entirely too much change for me to process in one sitting.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN:** I do want to introduce you lovely folks to Alcide too. So… here he is…

**Chapter 2**

It will not do to leave a live dragon out of your plans if you live near one.

_~The Hobbit_

**APOV**

"Jesus Christ," I mumbled as I pulled my pickup behind the limousine parked outside the Compton house.

I hadn't been happy when my father gave me this assignment. Hell, I'd tried to pass it off to Cal Norris as soon as the call came in from William Compton, Jr. Cal had always been the foreman at Billy Boy's projects, and I wasn't sure why Dad was trying to rock the boat on this one.

I hated the Comptons. Always had; always would. William Sr. and my father had gone to prep school together, and Bill and I had followed suit. We both came from equally established old Southern families, with equally good lineage. But where William Sr. had decided to live off his inheritance through investments, my father had decided to follow his passion and started the contracting business. That's where the rift had started. They'd been best friends growing up, but the minute my father entered the "working class", everything had changed. They would invite us to their Christmas parties, but we were treated like the poor relations, even if we could buy and sell them three times over.

Bill had always been nice enough to me. He had more of his mother's temperament than his father's, though that wasn't saying much. He'd always been, well, boring. And the years hadn't helped with that. Let's face it, a boring 10 year old is infinitely more interesting than a boring 32 year old. Last time I'd seen Bill, we'd been at a charity function in New Orleans. He'd been married to his equally boring wife Lorena at the time. I heard they divorced, which was about the most interesting thing Bill had ever done in his life.

But, despite being mind-numbingly dull, I couldn't really say a bad word about Bill. That didn't mean I liked him any better. When William Sr. had died a few years back and Bill received his full inheritance, he entered the working world too. Yes, he wasn't exactly getting his hands dirty, but he also wasn't sitting back and doing nothing. He'd even thrown a few jobs our way, dealing primarily with Dad, but that was fine by me.

I grumbled as I walked up to the front door of my new project, the only sound my boots crunching on the gravel driveway.

I heard a high pitched voice met by Bill's slow drawl on the other side of the door as I raised my hand to knock on the door. Maybe he'd gotten back together with his wife? I couldn't imagine anyone else going with Bill Compton. I shrugged and knocked anyway.

The door swung open and I was met by Bill's dull brown eyes.

"Alcide," he said, his voice laced with shock. "I'm sorry. That was rude of me. I wasn't expecting to see you. I thought we'd get Cal again."

"I thought so too," I said, trying not to make my distaste too noticeable.

"Well," he said, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to another, "do come in. There's someone I want you to meet. She's going to be integral in the renovation process."

Great. Just fucking great. The last thing I needed was some uppity bitch – and let's face it, a man like Bill doesn't hang around with any other kind – pretending she knows anything about remodeling just because she watched a _House Hunters_ marathon.

But, Bill was our client, and I knew Dad wouldn't like it if I didn't at least try to work with her.

With one last breath of the real world, I stepped through the large wooden doors into the foyer of the house. It had good, clean lines, and it had been built to last, that much I could tell. But beyond that, it was obvious that no one had bothered to take care of it, and maintain it over years. The wallpaper peeled away from the corners; the wood floors looked as if they hadn't been treated in a century. I was scrutinizing the grand staircase when Bill passed by me and headed towards the kitchen.

"Susannah. There's someone I'd like to introduce you to."

I heard the click of her shoes on the hardwood floor before I saw her. I braced myself to face a dull woman like Lorena had been, but that's not what came around the corner. As soon as I saw her, my breath hitched in my throat and I felt like a teenage boy. I'd seen plenty of women before, women that could be classified as more beautiful than the one walking towards me, but at that moment I couldn't think of any. She was nothing that I expected. She was petite, but curvy; her blonde hair was pulled back into a severe bun, revealing a long neck that my fingers itched to touch; she was tailored to within an inch of her life, and for the first time in my life I questioned my work attire.

I looked down at the worn work boots and jeans I generally preferred and shook my head. There was nothing I could do about it anyway. And if she was here with someone like Bill, I doubted she had the personality to keep me intrigued for very long.

"Alcide, this is Susannah Stackhouse. Susannah this is Alcide Her-"

"Just Alcide," I said, extending my hand out to clasp hers. The roughness of my skin rubbed in contrast to the hand I grabbed. You would have thought the woman walked around wearing kid gloves all the time. Oh hell, what did I know? She probably did. She looked like a pampered poodle; definitely not someone that had worked a day in her life. She was perfect for Bill Compton.

I was surprised when she closed her eyes and sucked her lower lip into her mouth. Fuck. I don't know if surprised was what I was feeling, so much as turned on.

"Nice to meet you," she said, opening her eyes and setting her chin in determination. Her eyes flashed with anger when she tugged her hand from mine and I didn't let it go. She continued in her no-nonsense Northern accent, "I'm looking forward to working closely with you on this."

I wondered how closely she'd be willing to work with me. Most women I'd met like her had a handy man fantasy. I might be willing to play the role for this one.

Bill broke the film that was playing out in my mind. "Susannah here, is excellent at what she does."

_I'm sure she is._

She smiled up at me wryly, as if she knew exactly what I was thinking and was amused. "And what is it that you do Ms. Stackhouse?" I asked with a smile.

"Susannah handles all of my renovations."

_Is that what they were calling it these days?_

"Is that so?" No doubt she picked out some throw pillows and called herself an interior designer between her trips to the boutique.

"Yes, that's so," she said, her clipped voice revealing a hint of a Southern accent. "I own Stackhouse Design. I _am _Stackhouse Design. Maybe you've heard of us?"

Well shit, now it was my turn to feel embarrassed. Hell yeah, I'd heard of Stackhouse Design. Who hadn't? She'd built quite a reputation for herself, even down in Louisiana. One of my old buddies worked for her from time to time. Why I hadn't put two and two together escaped me. It's not like Stackhouse was that common of a name. Then again, I'd imagined a woman with the reputation the owner of Stackhouse Design had wouldn't look anything like the pretty, petite blonde in front of me. I would've thought more flannel shirt and work boots than stilettos and pencil skirts, not that I was complaining. And knowing she wasn't Bill's trophy wife made her all the more appealing.

"Yeah, I reckon I have. I've heard good things about you from Tray Dawson."

A gentle smile broke across her stern face. "You know Dawson?"

"Yeah," I said with a shrug. "He used to work for my father."

Comprehension flashed across her face. "So that would make you Alcide Herveaux?"

"Guilty as charged."

"Hmm." She crossed her arms across her chest, unwittingly emphasizing the curve of her breasts and my desire to reach out and see if they felt as good as they looked. "Well that's a relief. When Bill told me I'd be working with a crew of his choosing, I will admit that I wasn't too excited by the prospect. But Dawson has spoken highly of you in the past."

"Good to hear."

A loud ringing sounded behind us, and Bill excused himself to take the call.

"So," I said, looking her over now that we were alone, "you work with Compton much?"

"You could say that," she said with a smile. She looked gave me a sidelong glance before nodding and walking towards the kitchen. "Shall we?"

I didn't move immediately, taking the chance to admire her as she walked away from me. One thing you could say about this one was that she knew what looked good, both from what I had seen of her work and from how she dressed herself. But for as put together as she was, I couldn't help but wonder what she'd look like rumpled up from a particular activity I had in mind.

"Are you coming?" she asked impatiently, looking over her shoulder.

_Not yet._

I nodded and smiled, following her diminutive figure into the outdated kitchen.

"As you can see, this needs to be redone entirely. Looks like it was touched last in the seventies," she said with a shudder.

"What? Not a fan of wood paneling?" It was hideous, all orange, yellow and avocado. Beyond the color palate, the design wasn't conducive to much cooking – the countertops were broken up every two feet, not giving anyone enough room to do much of anything before an appliance got in your way.

As a general rule, the kitchen was my favorite room in the house; always had been. All good things had happened in the kitchen when I was growing up, and I'd carried my love of that into my own kitchen. A kitchen should be a place to hang out, and a place to cook, if you were so inclined. I liked to cook. There was something relaxing and cathartic about cooking your own meal. I'd redesigned my own kitchen more times than I could count, but I finally had it right.

"Hardly," she said with a dry laugh. "It's outdated, and it needs more counter space. I'm thinking a double oven over there, get a new subzero refrigerator, built in dishwasher… pretty standard really. But I'd like to put a big island in the middle – granite possibly, or recycled glass. Something simple, modern…" she trailed off. "And it can double as an eating surface. Big enough for a family."

"Bill planning on having kids soon?"

Her eyes sharpened as she looked at me. "I wouldn't know."

She spun on her heel without another word and began down the hallway towards the formal dining room. After going over her ideas for that room and the adjoining front room, we headed up the stairs to the bedrooms. Much like with the kitchen, her aesthetic was in sync with my own. She had a vision to update the house with modern conveniences, without stripping it of its charm. There was nothing worse than some Northern yuppie coming in and buying a plantation house for its charm, then turning around and making it look like an inner city loft. I had to admire her taste.

We stopped in front of the doorway to a small bathroom, the only bathroom on the floor aside from the master bath. I leaned my shoulder against the hallway wall and waited for her to survey the room for herself. She had been quick to assess each room, knowing within minutes what she wanted to do and damned if I didn't agree with her every time. I would've liked to argue, to see if I could make her blush. She had the type of skin that would undoubtedly flush with anger, and with desire. I was hoping to get to see both.

A guy can dream.

"The bathroom is quite small," she said with a pout, smoothing her hand over her already perfectly in-place hair. I'd learned in the last twenty minutes that there was nothing Susannah Stackhouse disliked more than things that were where they shouldn't be. She'd absentmindedly straightened pillows, smoothed out wrinkles and adjusted towels – nothing she could probably remember doing, but enough to clue me into her penchant for perfection.

I could tell we were going to butt heads. It wasn't that I didn't like an orderly work place, but I was of the belief that it was darkest before the storm. If things didn't get a little messy from time to time, how else would you be able to appreciate it once it was done? But that was a bridge we could cross later. For now, I needed to get her to trust me, to get her to think that she had the upper hand.

I pushed myself away from the wall to peek over her shoulder, standing close enough that the rough flannel of my shirt brushed against her silky grey cardigan. Her body stiffened when she realized my closeness, and mine started to too when she bumped into me and her scent filled my head. Fuck, if she didn't smell just like a woman should, all vanilla and flower and something earthy.

"Yeah, it's a tight fit," I said, my voice low and gruff. "But I'm sure between the two of us we can figure out how to make it work." I knew that I was pushing her buttons; I wanted to see if I could get a rise out of her.

"Mr. Herveaux," she said, spinning around to face me, her mouth inches from mine when I ducked my head to look her in the eye.

"Alcide," I whispered, smirking when her breath came out in a shudder.

"Alcide," she repeated, placing a small hand on my chest and pushing me backwards, "I think we're going to have to set some ground rules here. If we're going to work together, you need to respect me as your equal."

"Oh, I respect you as my equal Miz Stackhouse."

"Good." Before I could stop her, she ducked under my arm and made her way into the next doorway. I waited a moment before following her in.

"The master bedroom is quite lovely," she said, turning to look at me from a tall armoire when I stepped into the doorway of the large, abnormally shaped room. My eyes immediately flew to the crown molding, the tall windows that allowed the light to stream across the long room. The original four-poster bed stood tall in the middle of the room. It needed some tender loving care, but I had no doubt that I could restore it to its former glory.

"So," I said, walking over and running my hand along one of the cherry-wood posts, "this is where all the magic happens." I turned my head over my shoulder to flash Susannah Stackhouse my trademark smile. I'd heard it was irresistible.

"We've been watching _Cribs_ too much, haven't we?" she responded, cocking her hip to lean against the doorframe.

"Excuse me?"

"_Where the magic happens? _ It's the go-to line on Cribs." I looked at her blankly. "On MTV?" I shook my head, which was met with a laugh. "So you say that on your own? Oh that's rich."

I shrugged my shoulders and sat down on the bed. "It's where the magic happens in my house. I'd be happy to give you a demonstration."

"Well, since you put it that way," she said sarcastically. "I think you're forgetting yourself." She pulled herself up to her full height, all five feet five inches, maybe three or four inches taller thanks to her dominatrix shoes. I could almost see the frustration rolling off her shoulder blades as she pulled them tightly and faced me with a stern look on her face.

"I tried to be polite about it in the bathroom, but apparently you're too thick to understand, so I'm going to say it straight out. You may be used to getting your way with that charming smile and flirtatious banter, but let me reassure you that I am not susceptible to your charms."

Oh she wasn't? You could've surprised me based on her earlier reaction in the bathroom.

"So why don't you stop trying to tell me how big your dick is? I'm not interested, or impressed by your attempts. We're colleagues. Well, technically I'm your boss, and, as much as I like Demi Moore, I'm not into the whole _Disclosure_ schtick. So, you keep it in your pants and I won't fire you. Are we clear?"

"Crystal," I responded with a chuckle. Her blue eyes locked with my green, a cold glint in their depths challenging me to a staring contest; a contest of our wills. I liked bossy Susannah Stackhouse. I liked her more than I'd like to admit. In fact, I was looking forward to seeing how she'd react when I ignored everything she just said the next time I saw her.

Our contest of wills was broken by the sound of Bill's voice from the doorway. "There you two are," he said with an edge of laughter in his voice. "I was beginning to think you two had run away together."

I raised my eyebrows in Susannah's direction at the suggestion. Even if it was in jest, it wasn't that bad of an idea. One tawdry weekend to get everything out of our systems; that should be enough.

"Of course not," Susannah said, her demeanor visibly changing from hard ass to the soft, pliable Susannah I'd seen downstairs.

"I hope you two are getting along well," he continued, crossing the room to stand next to Susannah. I had yet to stand up from my position on the large bed. It was a good vantage spot.

"I think we'll get along just splendidly," I replied, leaning forward to rest my chin on my hand. "Ms. Stackhouse here has good taste, and some good ideas, though I think I can add something to the design that she hasn't thought of."

I'd expected Bill's smile at my response, just as I'd expected Susannah's wrath. A woman like that hated nothing more than having her skill questioned. Her eyes could have bored holes into my head with their displeasure.

"Yes," Susannah said, her eyes turning soft as she faced Bill. "I think as long as Alcide is willing to follow a woman's command and will do what I say…I think we will get along just fine."

She turned back to face me and her eyes were full of challenge. Yes, this was a woman that was used to working in a man's world and getting her way. She undoubtedly used her sex appeal and her feminine wiles to push the men around her to do exactly what she wanted. She'd be in for another story where I was concerned. No matter how attractive I found her – and a certain part of my body was raising its hand to tell me exactly how attractive I found her – I wasn't one that would be easily persuaded by a flash of cleavage when it came to the job.

"Excellent. I told you it would be okay Susannah," Bill said, reminding me of his unwanted presence. It seemed to do the same for Susannah too, though I didn't think Bill was quite as unwanted as far as she was concerned. No, the woman lit up like a candle and turned to him with a smile.

"Of course Bill," she said coyly, looking up at him from her lowered lashes. "You're the boss."

Fuck. She was in love with Bill Compton.

It figured. It fucking figured.


	3. Chapter 3

Why are you the way that you are? Honestly, every time I try to do something fun or exciting, you make it not... that way. I hate... so much about the things that you choose to be.

~Michael Scott, The Office

**Chapter 3**

**SPOV**

The air I'd been holding in my lungs flew out in one giant woosh of relief the minute Alcide Herveaux shut the door behind him. Not that I was worried when he was here. Of course I wasn't.

I finally felt set back to rights when I heard the engine on his pickup roar to life and the sound of his tires on the gravel as he drove away. I always had this reaction to new situations, didn't I? My eternal need to be in control of the situation led to nerves when I wasn't, and this was just a small bout of nerves. Nothing to get too worked up over.

Truth be told, I hadn't expected to feel anything towards the contractor on this job. Scratch that. I _hadn't _felt anything towards the contractor on this job. He was a bit unsettling, sure, but that didn't mean anything. I hadn't gotten this far in my career by allowing my head to get turned by a pretty face and a smooth line or two. No, as attractive as I found Alcide Herveaux, he was not part of my plan, and I never did anything that was not part of my plan.

The truth was, I didn't particularly like him. I tended not to like men _like _him as a rule. And no, it's not because he is a contractor. I'd met plenty of contractors that I did like. Alcide Herveaux could have been the Prince of England and I wouldn't like him. He was one of _those men_ that winked at a woman and expected them to fall at his feet. He may be one of _those men _but I was not one of _those women_, despite the way my heart had fluttered when I'd realized that he was standing so close in the upstairs bathroom_._

It was just a physical reaction. It didn't mean anything. It _couldn't_ mean anything.

I had at least a month before I'd have to see him again. Between the project I needed to complete in Boston, and the time it would take to sketch out the initial plans, there was no way we could start before then. Sure, there may be a conference call here and there, but I was pretty sure that I wouldn't have to see him. An entire month to prepare myself for the onslaught of his presence should be enough.

Then again, it would be different when Bill wasn't here. With Bill present, I couldn't put up the cold front that I had become so famous for. Once Bill was gone, however, I could go Mr. Freeze on Herveaux until he realized that I was not open to his innuendos. I had a position to uphold, a job to complete, and failure wasn't an option.

"I think the two of you will be a perfect complement to each other," Bill said, coming to stand behind me in the kitchen.

I doubted it.

"Absolutely," I responded, turning to flash Bill the reserved smile I knew he'd come to appreciate. "Though he will have to understand that it's my vision we're implementing here."

"I'm sure he does Susannah," Bill said with a laugh. He reached out and brushed something off of my cardigan, his hand lingering on my shoulder. He hadn't touched me like this before– the hand on the elbow as we walked into events, the kiss on the cheek in greeting, but it was always for a purpose. This was new. This was a step forward in our relationship; a step closer to the plan.

My eyes sought out his hand, moving slowly up his arm until they met his own. He offered a tentative smile before letting out a small laugh and removing his hand entirely.

"I have the highest faith in you. This project is important to me. More important than you can imagine. It's a sense of history; my history. I know that you and Alcide will make it something beautiful again."

"Of course Bill," I said, squaring my shoulders once again.

"Excellent. When do you think you'll be able to start?"

I mentally ran through my calendar again – we had a busy year planned before the Compton project, but this was too important, both professionally and personally, to not move things around. I could push the Madden project back, have Lafayette go on the Leclerq project in New Orleans – there was no doubt that Sophie-Anne would prefer his presence anyway, she always did have a preference for men. Yes, I could make this work. For Bill. For me.

"I think we could start on the fifteenth of next month, provided that Mr. Herveaux will be able to get his team assembled by then." I tried to hide the distaste over working with Alcide Herveaux. Besides having to deal with his rather forward personality, I didn't like change. I'd have to speak to Dawson about him, to learn what it would take to get him to work with me.

Bill's eyes sparkled with glee. "You are amazing Susannah Stackhouse."

"I'm glad you think so," I said, offering my standard, dimpled "Bill" smile that I had worked so hard to perfect.

"I've thought it for awhile Susannah, you know how highly I think of you. You're…you're…" he trailed off.

_I'm what?_

"Just amazing," he said wistfully before turning away and heading up the stairs.

This was progress. This was worth it.

…

The next three weeks in Boston flew by in a blur. I spent an increasing amount of time with Bill – beyond the hours we spent going over the final plans, I found plenty of excuses to be with him, and he with me. The night before I was flying back to Shreveport, sitting in Bill Compton's living room after a dinner he'd ordered in, he reached out and clasped my hand.

"Tell me something about you that I would never guess Susannah Stackhouse."

My heart fluttered at his touch, at his words.

"I don't know what you mean Bill," I said honestly. What did he want to know? That I'd slept with a glowworm until I was 12 years old? That I'd doodled his name on the margins of my planner without thinking?

He laughed, his brown eyes twinkling with delight as they raked over my face. "You're always so put together, it's disconcerting for a man like me. I want to know the chink in your armor, something that makes you mortal like the rest of us."

"Oh," I said with a frown and slumped back into sofa behind me. "Well…"

"There has to be something," he teased. "An indiscretion? A run in with the police? Anything?"

I shook my head and bit my bottom lip, gazing off into the fire. There had been that time when I was ten years old and Tara and I had been hauled into Sheriff Dearborne's office for stealing Jane Bodehouse's underwear off the line. In our defense, we had been looking to make a parachute and there wasn't anything that would've worked better… but I doubted Bill would want to hear that.

When I didn't say anything, he patted my hand and said, "That's alright. How about I tell you something you'd never guess about me first?"

I nodded, happy to get a reprieve.

"When I was sixteen years old, Clancy and I got caught spying on our neighbor Felicia after we drank Father's 60 year old Scotch at the house in Kennebunkport. Felicia didn't rat us out, but we had to be her personal cabana boys for the rest of the summer. We didn't mind too much, seeing that it meant seeing Felicia in her bikini up close and personal." He laughed at the memory. "Though when Father did find out, he took away my Range Rover for two months."

Ah yes, I somehow didn't think my story about Jason lighting the cat on fire would quite match up to the antics of the upper crust.

"Hmmm, well what would you say if I told you that I was the co-captain of my high school's Civil War re-enactment club? We were the Junior Descendants of the Glorious Dead." That wasn't a lie. And it was something that Bill could appreciate, his family being from the South as well.

"I didn't know you had a thing for history Susannah," he said with admiration in his eyes. "I'm glad you came over tonight. It's been a night of learning, undoubtedly. Now I know, even your deep dark secrets are respectable. It's no wonder Mother likes you as well as she does."

His mother liked me? I would have tripped over my own feet if I was standing. Once you were in with the Mother's of these old families, you were in with the entire family. Yes, this was a night of learning.

…

_~~Four weeks later~~_

I opened the door of the silver convertible the rental agency at the airport had given me. I didn't like convertibles, and didn't understand why anyone would want to ride in a car with no structure. There was a reason houses had walls, and a reason cars had doors and roofs. Who wanted the wind to whip through their hair, for everything the air carried to hit your face? Thankfully I'd stopped the rental employee before he wasted his time showing me how to take the top off. It would remain firmly in place for as long as I had the vehicle.

My new tan heels sunk into the brown dirt that comprised the driveway of the Bellefleur place, something that would need to be looked into immediately. Bill could simply not expect his visitors to deal with mud and God knew whatever else was currently beneath my feet.

I unfurled myself from the vehicle, shutting the driver's door behind me neatly as I took in the plantation house in front of me. It really was a beautiful house, even if it needed some TLC to shine in its former glory. But that was exactly what I was there for.

It was no wonder I hadn't been able to associate William Compton with this house – it had always been known as the Bellefleur House, and Old Lady Bellefleur as she'd been known to the kids, had never ventured outside. She had a day man, Andy, who had done her running for her, but the last I'd heard he'd taken off and joined the Army.

I walked up the broken front steps onto the verandah, taking in the curve of the wraparound porch and the elegance of the French doors that led inside. There was something to be said for the old-world elegance of the Southern plantation houses. They were rich in history, rich in tradition. I would make this shine again for Bill Compton. It would be his crown jewel in his vault of properties.

I groaned in disdain as the shiny black truck rumbled up the driveway, followed closely behind by a handful of work trucks bearing the name Herveaux & Sons. At least the man was punctual. I could give him that.

I watched from the top of the steps as Alcide Herveaux himself climbed out of the black pickup, looking for all the world like Satan himself come to wreck havoc on the world around him. Even through the dark lenses of his glasses, I could feel him watching me. And when he pushed those glasses up on his head and those green eyes raked over me, I felt downright indecent in my pencil skirt and blouse that had seemed conservative enough this morning.

"Miz Stackhouse," he drawled, sauntering up to the steps, "what a sight for sore eyes you are."

I clenched my fists to my sides to stop myself from saying or doing anything out of line. This was one of Bill's family friends. It wouldn't be fitting for me to smack that shit-eating grin off his face.

"Mr. Herveaux," I said with a polite nod. The best way to deal with a man like this was to play nice. "It's a pleasure to see you again."

He cocked his hip out, resting gingerly on the banister beside him. "I'm sure there's something we could to make it much more pleasurable."

Ugh. Not even two sentences exchanged and he was back to this? He was infuriating.

"Hmm," I said. "Well I'm sure we'll never find out about that. Now, shall we get down to business?"

"Isn't that what I just suggested?" he asked with a smile.

I gave him an icy glare before sweeping my eyes over the men that were making their way up the steps, tools in hand. They looked like a good crew, and Dawson had told me as much. Most importantly, they looked like the kind of men that were good at following direction, even if their boss wasn't.

"I'm afraid you and I mustn't have the same idea of what constitutes business," I challenged with one arched eyebrow. "Care to introduce me to your crew?"

He shook his head with a laugh and turned to face the men that were watching our interaction with trepidation. "Why not?" He proceeded to introduce me to his eight-man crew, all of whom had manners that far exceeded their foreman's as they shook my hand and tipped their hats.

"Well gentleman," I said, putting on my stern, authoritative voice, "thank you all for coming out today. If any of you have done your research, you will know that I am easy to work for, so long as you do what I ask of you. I put in a lot of hard work, and will expect the same from you." I skimmed their faces for reaction, and was pleased when I found most of the mean willing to listen. Well, all of the men except one. The one that was going to be the problem.

"I know that you're used to working for Mr. Herveaux here, and I plan to respect that relationship. However, your team has been hired by Mr. Compton to work for me. What I say goes. Is that clear?"

The men mumbled their assent, shifting uncomfortably.

"Excellent. Now I'm sure Alcide has shared the specs and plans with you. We will be completing the master bedroom and the master bath first. Who are the men that will be working in the bathroom?" Two men of medium height raised their hands, stepping forward. "Excellent. I'll be working with you two directly for the first few days. The rest of you will be working with Mr. Herveaux on the staircase and in the master bedroom. Now, we've wasted ten minutes already. Unless we want to stay off track, I suggest we all work our way inside."

I smiled at each man as he walked past me, offering a dimpled smile to the ones who were more daring and looked me in the eye. Yes, this crowd would be easy to direct as long as there was no interference from Alcide.

When the last of the men shuffled by, Alcide pushed himself off the railing and came to stand in front of me.

"I didn't know what to think when Dawson told me you could command a room of men like that," he said. "I didn't think a woman like yourself would be able to get much attention, professional-like."

"What exactly do you mean by 'a woman like yourself,' Mr. Herveaux?" I asked tersely.

His eyes traveled down my body and rested on the curve of my breasts. Asshole.

"A woman as good looking as you shouldn't have to be a ball buster, that's all I'm sayin'," he said with a shrug.

"How about this Mr. Herveaux? You leave your judgments in that little, itty-bitty brain of yours, and I'll leave my assessment of you to myself. Deal?"

He shrugged and walked by me.

It might not be an affirmative answer, but at least it was better than some smart-ass response.

…

The next three weeks were no better. While I was able to get the men to work for me, through both fear and intimidation when my kindness didn't work, that infuriating Alcide Herveaux didn't help the situation at all. Every step, every turn I took was undermined by the man they were used to reporting to.

I had been able to handle the difference in management style. That was to be expected. I liked to be involved in every decision, as it was ultimately my reputation that was on the line with this job. Alcide, on the other hand, liked to manage from a distance, allowing his workers to do what they thought was best. Both styles had their attributes, and if it had only been a clash in management style, we would have been fine. But it was much more than that.

I'd begun to grow irritated when the men cut out early the first Friday to head back to Shreveport for some high school football game, but held my tongue. They had been working hard, and we were ahead of schedule. I wasn't going to ruin the working relationship over clocking out an hour early, especially since the man cutting their checks told them it was okay.

The decision to leave the banister in shambles had been questionable, undoubtedly, but there was a possibility that my instructions hadn't been clear. Or so I thought. It wasn't until the bathroom incident that I was finally tipped off to Alcide's underhanded coup.

I walked into the master bath after an especially trying conversation with Sophie-Anne Leclerq, who called me expressly to complain about the draperies I had picked (the draperies she had picked and I had objected to for the record) and how she wasn't sure why she had agreed to go with my "little" design firm, despite the recommendation from her Uncle Russell. Never mind that her Uncle Russell was paying for her renovations, and had handpicked my firm after we had done one his apartment in Soho. No. None of that mattered. She was a spoiled brat, and that was all that there was to it.

I had counted to ten in five languages, worn a rut into the carpet as I paced back and forth trying to calm my nerves, and had managed to get myself into a semi-natural state when I saw the-tile-that-caused-a-hurricane. Oh, I know it sounds dramatic, and it may have been. But walking into the bathroom to find Hoyt and Rene laying the stone-tile that I had expressly denied the day before was enough to push me over the edge.

"What in the hell do you think you're doing?" I screeched, throwing my hands into the air.

Hoyt, bless his dim-witted soul, looked up at me with those puppy dog brown eyes like a deer caught in headlights. He was just the worker bee. I didn't want him caught in the middle of this, but there was no getting around it.

"What does it look like chère?" Rene asked, that annoying Cajun accent he thought was so charming seeping out of his every pore.

"It looks like you're laying the goddamn tile I told you to get rid of." Yes, yes a lady didn't swear, and normally I didn't.

When Hoyt's eyes darted to the box of tile next to him, I continued. "Or, do you not remember me telling you to get rid of it yesterday Rene?"

"My memory is just fine, chère." He looked at me with challenge in his eyes. God, he looked like a psychopath sometimes. I'd have to make sure I was never caught alone with him in a dark alley.

"Then why in the hell are you laying it?"

"Alcide told us to."

Of course. Of course. Alcide fucking Herveaux. I spun on my thin heel and stomped down to the kitchen, where I knew Alcide had set up shop. I heard the strains of Kiss' Love Gun before I saw him. Of course he'd listen to that song. I rounded the corner and found him hunched over his work bench, the muscles of his back rippling beneath the thin grey cotton shirt he wore.

"Who in the hell do you think you are?" I asked, and couldn't help but be pleased when he jumped up startled and hit his head on the shelf above him.

"What's that?" he asked, turning around to face me with that damned cocky smile.

"I said, who in the hell do you think you are?"

"I don't reckon I know what you mean, Miz Stackhouse."

"Cut the bullshit Herveaux. I'm not in the mood for it."

"I figured out you're not in the _mood _for much real quick, Stackhouse. But to what, can I ask, do I owe the pleasure of this particular conversation?"

"Does shitty tile ring a bell?"

"Ah, I wondered when you'd figure that one out," he said with a smirk.

I stormed over to him, ready to smack that smirk off his face, stopping only when I was inches away from him.

"Do you think it's funny?"

He shrugged.

"You are unbelievable!"

"There's nothing wrong with that tile."

"Other than the fact that it's not what I ordered, you're right, there is nothing wrong with it," I countered.

"It's one shade off Stackhouse. You need to lighten up. It's here. Waiting for the other stuff to come in would delay us two days. Bill doesn't even know what you picked. He'll never know it's wrong."

"It's _my _decision. Or have you forgotten that you and your crew are working for me?"

"No, I haven't forgotten."

"Good," I said, taking a step backwards. "You'd do well to remember that."

"Like you'd let me forget," he said, so low I could barely hear him.

I closed the gap again, my face inches from his. Oh I could be intimidating. He hadn't even seen the intimidating side of me.

"Herveaux," I said, so low that the noise of the breeze outside practically masked it. "I have about had it up to here with you. I agreed to work with you because Bill asked me to."

"I bet that's not all he asks you to do."

That was it. Before I could stop myself, my hand flew across the air, slapping the side of his face. The shock in his eyes was genuine, as was the shock in mine when he clasped my wrist in his grip. "Don't you dare say anything to me about my relationship with Bill Compton."

"What, afraid I'd sully it with my dirty hands Princess?" he growled.

"You have no idea what you're talking about," I retorted, gasping for air.

"Does he make you lose your breath like this?" he asked, nodding in my direction.

"That's none of your business."

"Mmm," he groaned, inching closer. "What I wouldn't give to be Bill Compton for just one day so I could see you nice and pliant."

"Fuck you Herveaux," I gasped, attempting to pull my hand away from his grip to no avail.

"Is that a request?"

My mouth opened in retort, only to be covered by the lips inches from mine. As much as I wanted to resist, the second his tongue swept across my lower lip, begging for entry, I gave in. It was passionate; hell there was more passion in that one kiss than I'd had in my last relationship. Alcide buried his large hands in my hair as he angled my head for better access to my mouth.

I heard myself moan as his tongue swept the interior of my mouth, and reached out to clasp the cotton of his t-shirt. There was something so elemental, so rudimentary in his kiss. I felt my knees give out as his hand swept down my spine, cupping the small of my back to pull me closer against him. It felt like the world was spinning out of control. Hell, the world was spinning out of control if I was kissing Alcide Herveaux, and even worse…liking it!

Two minutes, two more minutes, and who knows where we would have ended up. I had lost all reasoning, all logic. Only when Alcide pushed me away, and smoothed over my hair in almost a gentle manner did I return to my senses, and just in time to see Rene Lenier standing in the doorway.

I prayed that he hadn't seen anything, and let out a sigh of relief when it became apparent he hadn't.

"You'll need to pull up that tile," Alcide said, his voice far calmer than anything I would have been able to muster.

I heard Rene curse beneath his breath and smiled when Alcide reprimanded him for it and told him to get back to work.

Only when Rene's footsteps were in the distance did I say anything.

"Not a word of that gets out Herveaux."

His eyes widened with shock, but soon his sarcastic smile was back in place. "Of course not, Princess."


	4. Chapter 4

**Walter Stratford**: Hello, Katarina. Make anyone cry today?  
**Kat Stratford**: Sadly, no. But it's only 4:30.

~Ten Things I Hate About You

**SPOV**

"Ms. Stackhouse," a timid voice said from behind me. I turned around to see Hoyt Fortenberry standing in the doorway of the bedroom, his hat in hand. He shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot as I watched him.

"Yes Hoyt?" I asked, irritated that he'd pulled me away from the plans I was drawing for the kitchen. The plan I'd drawn so far was inspired – functional, efficient, modern, yet it held the charm and simplicity of the old house.

"Well," he said sheepishly, "it's just that, um…" he trailed off.

"Yes?" Seriously, I wondered if he'd been dropped on his head as a baby the way he was going. A vision of Sloth flashed before my eyes and I had to stop myself from laughing. The chortle I did allow caused Hoyt's eyebrows to rise. I cleared my throat. "Yes, Hoyt?"

Oh, I know that sounds cruel, but ever since that day in the kitchen with Alcide, there was no way I was going to let my guard down again. If I had to be a bitch on wheels to get the job done and to keep Alcide away, that's exactly what I would be.

"We were wondering if – " he trailed off again.

"Spit it out Hoyt. I don't have time to wait while you get muster the balls to ask me a question."

His eyes bulged and he took a step backwards. I couldn't stand working with people like this. I'm sure he was a nice enough person, but we were on a deadline, and there was no room for tiptoeing around anything. I had to be back in Boston tomorrow, and had two days work sitting on the desk in here that I had three hours to complete.

"Uh…it's just the weather." I turned and looked out the window. When in the hell had this storm come in? The weather forecast said the storm wasn't supposed to hit until tomorrow. I looked down at my watch and back out the window, trying to gauge how long I could stay here before getting stuck. The road over the little river to Shreveport had a tendency to get washed out. That much I could remember. Of course I could. It's how my parents had died after all.

I turned around to face Hoyt with a cold glint in my eye. "What are you trying to ask me?"

"It's just that, well…"

I shut my eyes and tried to control my breathing, counting to ten while I did so. And just when I managed to calm myself down, the one voice that could spike my blood pressure spoke up.

"Be nice to him Miz Stackhouse. He isn't used to women like you." My eyes shot open and I saw Alcide in the doorway, one shoulder cocked against the door frame as his cool eyes assessed me. God, why did he have to be here, interrupting my every moment? I'd done my best to avoid him, but he always found a way to interject himself into my day.

"What exactly do you mean by that Mr. Herveaux?"

"Women who'd like nothing more than to rip out your balls and hand them to you on a silver platter." My mouth gaped open in surprise at his candor. I had worked hard to get to my lot in life, yes maybe I was a little harsh from time to time, but only when it was required. "See, Princess, down here in the South," he continued, his drawl pronounced, "most of the women are worried about making sure the men are taken care of."

"Is that how it is?" I rolled my eyes. "Pardon me for not simpering and doing your biding." Hoyt, who had been following our banter like it was a tennis match, cleared his throat.

Alcide tore his eyes away from me and glanced at Hoyt. "You should send the men home before they can't get there."

"There is far too much to do," I started, " and we are already behind schedule. Leaving now would set us back – "

"We're already behind Stackhouse. What's another few hours at this point? At least you can rest easy knowing that you did a good deed. Might be the only chance you get since you've struck that deal with the devil."

I let out a sigh of frustration and turned away from the men to look out the window. It did look bad outside and it was only getting worse. Even in the five minutes since I'd last looked outside, the storm had picked up.

"Although I do not like your tone Mr. Herveaux, I will agree that safety comes first." I tried to suppress the shudder that ran through my body as I recalled the night my parents had been caught in the storm; the fear I'd felt when the Sheriff came and knocked on the door, the comfort in my Gran's arms, but more than anything the irrational fear I had for rain after that. I could take heat, I could take snow, but rain diminished me to nothing more than a bundle of nerves, nerves I couldn't afford to show to Alcide and his crew. Maybe it was better if they did leave. "If everyone cleans up, they are free to go." And with one nod of my head, I dismissed them.

Or so I thought.

"I didn't think you had it in you Princess," Alcide's increasingly annoying voice called from the doorway. I looked up to see that he hadn't moved.

"Despite what you think, I am not a monster."

"Never said you were."

"You said just as much with the balls comment. But, you didn't have to say it."

His stare disconcerted me, as did the silence. Unable to take it anymore, I continued. "I demand a lot of the people I work with, but then again I demand a lot of myself."

He looked me over from head to toe, to the point where I ran my hand through my hair to make sure that there was nothing out of place. When I was assured that there was nothing out of the ordinary, I met his gaze, refusing to step down. He met my stare with one of his own, finally shrugging and offering one of those devastating smiles.

"You planning on getting out of here soon?" he asked.

I tore my eyes away from him to look at the stack of papers in front of me. There was easily three more hours of work that I couldn't leave behind, and couldn't take with me.

"No. I've got to finish this up. My flight doesn't leave Shreveport until nine anyway. I'd just be sitting at the airport waiting for it to leave. I might as well get this done."

"I doubt there are flights leaving in this weather Stackhouse, but if you don't leave soon, you're going to be stuck here in Bon Temps."

"I'm sure it will be fine," I said in a voice that sounded infinitely more sure than I was. I couldn't imagine spending the night in Bon Temps. It wasn't that I thought I was above Bon Temps. I wasn't. But there were too many ghosts here to stay overnight. "But feel free to leave when you want."

"I'm not leaving you here alone." My eyes shot up to meet his, and they were full of challenge.

"I'll be fine Mr. Herveaux."

"Jesus Christ Princess, how many times must I tell you to call me Alcide before you will? We're colleagues, or at the very least we are co-workers. Hell, I've had my tongue in your mouth." Thanks for reminding me. "_Mr. Herveaux _is my father."

I shut my eyes and shook my head. "Fine. Alcide," his name sounded foreign rolling off my tongue, "I'll be fine, _Alcide._"

"I don't claim to know much about you Stackhouse, or where you're from. But here in the South we don't leave ladies – even ladies like you – to fend for themselves in this kind of weather. You aren't used to what can happen. I wouldn't want to be responsible for you getting caught in the river water because you're too pigheaded to stay put."

Oh, I wouldn't be too pigheaded for that, but he didn't know. As much as I hated to admit it, his chivalry made me like him. Almost.

"I would hate to have you get stuck here because I don't want to leave yet."

"I've been stuck in far worse situations, in far worse places, with far less attractive girls."

My head snapped up. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," he said with a shrug. "I'm going to go back downstairs and work on the kitchen while you finish up. When you're ready to go, give me a holler and we'll head out. But only if it's safe. Otherwise, I reckon we'll be getting good and cozy tonight."

"Hardly." The thought of spending the night here alone was bad enough, but the thought of spending the night here alone with a man like Alcide Herveaux was downright frightening, especially since I seemed to lose all control around him.

"Tell me Stackhouse, you wind yourself up so tight when you're going to sleep?" When I didn't respond he continued. "I'd be curious to see what you sleep in… if you sleep in anything at all." His eyes burned as he looked into mine, and it took everything in me to not avert my gaze.

"You, Mr. Herveaux… Alcide, will not ever be privy to what I wear, or do not wear, to sleep in. Of that I can guarantee."

He didn't say anything, only gave me one of those cool assessing gazes before turning on his heel and heading downstairs, his deep laughter following him the whole way.

**APOV**

"You sure?" I asked into the small speaker on my mobile phone. Upon hearing the answer, I nodded and squeezed the tension that had built in my neck. I'd left the incomparable Susannah Stackhouse upstairs two hours ago and hadn't heard a peep out of her since. I'd been in such a groove that I'd been startled when the phone rang.

"Okay, thanks for letting me know Sheriff Dearborn. No. I'm sure we'll be okay, thanks for the offer."

I hung up the phone and rested my elbows on the half finished countertop. She wasn't going to like this; not one bit. I'd managed to crack the great fortress earlier, but even I didn't want to relay the news that we were trapped in Bon Temps to her.

I stared out the picture window onto the front garden of the Bellefleur place, saw the outline of an old building across the way through the torrential downpour that had hit Bon Temps and saw flickering lights beyond. I wondered what I'd find beyond the river and promised myself I'd seek it out. I hadn't explored Bon Temps much, and not the area around the Bellefleur place. But that could be later. For now, I had to go face the beast, for undoubtedly any ground I'd made earlier would be gone the second I told her we were stuck in Bon Temps.

I trudged up the stairs, taking each one gingerly as if the less sound I made would help ease the news. I stopped in the doorway, entranced by the vision of Susannah Stackhouse at work. For as much as I liked to rile her, I could admit that the woman knew what she was doing. Watching her in her natural habitat, when she was unaware she was being watched, was the difference between a caged and a free animal. It was a shame that she hadn't let our interlude the week before extend beyond that kiss, no matter how hot it had been, it had left me feeling rather uncomfortable that day, and every day since. Shit, I hadn't felt like that after kissing a girl since I was 16 years old and Debbie Pelt let me touch her boobs for the first time.

But Susannah was different. She was a challenge. All the tension she carried in her shoulders, the perfectly coifed hair, the smooth lines of her work uniform were forgotten. I watched as she twirled a strand of long blonde hair around her finger, absentmindedly chewing on the end of her pencil as she examined the plans below her. I wondered what she'd do if I walked over and took out the pins that held her hair in place; wondered what she would do if I stripped her out of the armor she donned every day; wondered what she'd look like standing in front of me wearing nothing but those damn heels she insisted upon wearing in the workplace.

I felt my stomach clench at the sight of her and stamped down the feeling. It wouldn't do to think of Susannah Stackhouse other than the HBIC boss lady. Thinking of her as a woman, and a beautiful woman at that, wouldn't help our working relationship. She'd made it very clear that she wasn't interested in picking up where we'd left off. Besides, she was in love with Bill. And a woman that loved Bill, no matter who she was, would never look twice at a man like me unless she knew exactly what I was worth, and I didn't want anyone that wanted me based upon my net worth.

"Well Miz Stackhouse, looks like we're stuck here for the night." Her spine stiffened at the sound of my voice, and she turned around so quickly that she forgot to remove the pencil from her lips. When our eyes met, she gasped, the pencil falling out of her grip and hitting the table.

"Are you sure?" she asked. "I'm sure there's a way we could get back to Shreveport."

"'Fraid not." I slid my hands into my pockets and shrugged my shoulders. "Just spoke to the Sheriff, and he said that the river overflowed already."

"Bud said that?"

"How do you know the Sheriff's name?" I asked, curious since I hadn't seen her leave the Bellefleur property except on her return to Shreveport every night.

"What?" Her eyes were tinted with fear. "Oh, I must've heard you say it."

I hadn't said it.

"Hmmm. Well, he said there's no way out, so it looks like we'll have to bunk here for the night."

She began to pace on the floor, the clacking of her heels that had become synonymous with her presence the only noise other than the wind and rain outside.

"Want me to go grab your suitcase from your car?"

She stopped, spinning on her heel to look at me. "We really have to do this?"

"Looks like it."

"Then yes, I guess we should bring our things inside, if you don't mind going outside to get it."

"Not at all." As much as she wanted to be treated like one of the guys, I had been raised to be chivalrous, and making a woman go outside to get her suitcase in hurricane force winds wasn't exactly chivalrous.

"I'm sure Bill will appreciate you sticking around," she said with a laugh that only served to annoy me. I didn't want to think about Bill fucking Compton right now, not when I had visions of Susannah sprawled out on the unfinished kitchen counter in my head. "He's always getting after me for working too hard."

I spun on my heel and headed towards the door without a word. The rain hit my face the minute I opened the door, and my clothes were soaked by the time I made it down to our vehicles.

By the time I made it back inside with our luggage, waters was dripping from my boots.

"Oh my," she said, rushing forward to grab the suitcase from my hand. "You're absolutely soaked. You should get out of those clothes before you catch your death." I hadn't imagined her being very motherly when she'd been berating me for Malcom using the paint for the master bedroom in the library. Hell, I'd known it was wrong, I hadn't needed her to yell at me too. But this side of her was almost more unnerving.

"It's a good thing we have a finished bathroom, even if isn't the master. Maybe you should take a shower to warm up." I wondered what she would do if I told her what I had in mind for warming me up, but decided against it. It was going to be a long night anyway. I didn't need to cause any more problems than already existed between us.

I nodded and made my way to the downstairs bathroom, my sodden boots leaving wet footprints across the floor. I was glad we were leaving the floor for last, at least I wouldn't get reprimanded for ruining something.

I closed the door behind me and peeled off my wet shirt. I was hanging it gingerly over the heated towel rack when I heard a soft knock at the door.

"Alcide?" her voice called from the other side. "Can I come in?"

I cursed my traitorous dick for responding to the thought of what we could do in this bathroom. That is if she wasn't so uptight and wasn't in love with Compton.

I kicked out of my boots and crossed the expanse of tile floor to pull the door open – the tile on the floor, by the way, was the tile she had rejected for the master bath, which still remained unfinished thanks to a delayed shipment.

Her eyes widened in shock at my state of undress, and I couldn't stop myself from smiling when they devoured my naked chest hungrily.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude." She tore her eyes reluctantly away from me and looked at a spot over my head. "I thought you might need a towel."

I looked down and saw the fluffy beige towel she held in her hands. Of course Bill Compton would pick beige towels.

"Thank you, Miz Stackhouse," I said, taking a step closer to her, allowing my fingers to linger over hers as I took the towel from her hands. Her gasp was barely audible, but it echoed in my ears. Maybe she wasn't as immune to me as she pretended to be after all.

"Yeah, um…" she trailed off. "No problem. And, it's Susannah. If we're going to be stuck here all night like this, you can call me Susannah. I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything." She jumped backwards when I rubbed my fingers along the inside of her wrist and I couldn't help but chuckle when she ran into the door frame behind her in haste to get away from me.

I watched as she practically ran down the hall in retreat with a wry smile on my face. Maybe she could be persuaded away from Bill by something other than my pocketbook.

***

**AN**: Thanks as always to **sunkisz **for being my beta, and for giving Alcide a chance!

Hope you're enjoying this story, even if it *isn't* Eric!


	5. Chapter 5

The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it.

~ Oscar Wilde

**SPOV**

I stared out the picture window in the living room, cursing the storm that had trapped me here. It had been bad enough when there was the possibility of working through the night, but that hope had ended fifteen minutes ago when the power flickered and finally went out. I wanted nothing more than to get to the airport, and by extension to get as far away from Alcide Herveaux as I possibly could. I didn't like when he acted like this, when he was nice and soft, and almost human. Or at least certainly not the asshole I'd come to hate.

And seeing him practically naked? My knees gave out at the memory of how he'd looked without his shirt on. The men I dated didn't look like that; you _couldn't _look like that unless you were a man who performed physical labor. No hours at the gym, no personal trainer could possibly make a man's body look like that. But, I shouldn't be thinking of him like that. I shouldn't be thinking of him at all, and certainly not remembering the way that very chest had felt the week before when I'd clasped onto him as he kissed me. No. That wouldn't do at all.

"There's no hope," his voice said, pulling me out of my thoughts of…well…him. "There's nothing wrong with the circuits, must be a problem with the power lines."

_Fuck_.

"Maybe we should venture out and grab a bite to eat," he said. "There's a bar a bit up the road. Food's not too bad."

No way. I hadn't been here in years, but I doubted the town had finally got a second bar after holding out for so long, and there was no way I was stepping foot into Merlotte's. I'd done my damnedest to stay out of any public place in Bon Temps for the last three weeks. Waltzing into Merlotte's on a Friday night during a rainstorm would be putting all of that effort to waste.

"There's no need," I replied. "I've got some food in my bag. We can eat it here and leave in the morning, get breakfast in Shreveport."

He turned around to face me, his mouth curved in a reproaching grin. "I hate to argue with a lady, but I wouldn't qualify your granola bars as a meal." He looked down at his watch. "It's seven o'clock. What are we going to do for the next three hours in a house that has no electricity?" His eyes suggested exactly what he'd like to do.

"I'm sure I could find something to occupy myself. I'd rather not go out."

"What's the matter, Susannah?" he asked, stepping closer to me and reaching out to brush a strand of hair off my face. "Are you afraid of the locals?" The roughness of his hands against the delicate skin of my face made me weak in the knees, and the thought of how those hands would feel all over made me nearly fall over. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to be alone with him.

"No," I said, trying to sound stern when my insides were churning. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Good," he said with a smirk. He hadn't taken a step back and I could feel the heat radiating off his body. "Why don't you go put on something a little more comfortable and we can head out before it gets too crowded."

Thankful for any excuse to get away from him before I gave into temptation, I nodded and spun on my heel towards the hallway that held my suitcase.

"That's what you call more comfortable?" he asked with a quirk of his eyebrow when I returned ten minutes later.

I looked down at the yellow dress I'd changed into. It was the most casual clothing I had with me, with the exception of my pajamas. And while I was sure that the population of Bon Temps probably had their numbers among them that saw no problem in going to dinner in their pajamas, I didn't think my nightgown would adhere to the decency laws.

"It _is _more comfortable."

It was.

"How in the hell do you walk in those things?" he asked, nodding towards my feet, which were clad in a pair of tan Louboutins. "Not that I'm complaining. I've always liked a woman in heels."

Why was he deciding to flirt with me now? Why was he making himself so charming when there was no chance to get away from him?

"You get used to it," I said shortly, turning to grab my swing coat. "Shall we get going before the rain starts up again?"

"Sure," he said with a nod, tearing his eyes away from my legs with reluctance. "Yeah. Let's go."

He was the eternal gentleman, walking me to the passenger's side of his pickup and wrapping his hand around my waist as he lifted me into the cab. I gasped, partially in shock because I hadn't been expecting his help, and partially because I couldn't help responding to his touch. His hands were huge and his touch spread a warmth through my stomach that I couldn't stamp down, no matter how hard I tried.

"Thank you, Alcide," I said, and when he didn't move his hands, I continued, "I think I'm in okay."

He shook his head and laughed. "Yes, I can see that." He reached up and pulled the seatbelt across my lap, securing me in like I was a toddler. As his head crossed in front of my face, a whiff of his scent filled my nostrils and it took everything in me not to moan.

I didn't have some handyman fantasy. I didn't even like men that looked more comfortable swinging a hammer than sitting in the board room. I never had. I didn't understand my attraction to Alcide. Okay, maybe I could understand it a little after that kiss last week, and after I saw him practically naked tonight. The man looked like he was carved out of marble. My fingers itched at the memory, but that's all they would be doing.

The ride to Merlotte's was silent, the sound of the windshield wipers going back and forth the only noise that filled the cab. There wasn't a need for words; the tension between us could've been cut with a knife. We hadn't talked about the kiss, hell I hadn't even been able to acknowledge that it happened before a few hours ago. But, it was all I could think about sitting in the tight confines of his truck, surrounded in the scent of Alcide Herveaux.

I pushed the door open violently, eager to put some distance between the two of us before I did or said anything I would later regret. But I just exchanged one piece of personal torture for another.

The country music blared out of Merlotte's doors, the neon sign blinking and beckoning the locals in. I knew that we'd be lucky to get a table on a night like this. I knew, because I'd worked every summer as a waitress for one Sam Merlotte. But that was a lifetime ago. I was hoping that I'd changed enough, that people's memories wouldn't be so good, that somehow I'd be able to go through the night unnoticed.

Of course I wasn't so fortunate.

We pushed through the crowds that were lined up at the bar and around the pool table, and somehow found an empty booth along the windows. We weren't sitting for more than a minute before I heard my name, or at least what I used to be called, shrieked out from across the room.

"Sookie Stackhouse!" the voice called, coming closer. "Well, I don't believe my eyes. I never thought I'd see the likes of you in here ever again, what with that fancy life you've set up for yourself."

Arlene Fowler. She'd worked at Merlotte's forever, and had gone through just about every man in town in one way or another. Even so, I'd always liked her. She said it like it was. I should've known she would be here.

"What's this?" Alcide asked, catching my eye with a smirk.

"Hey Arlene," I said with a smile, pointedly ignoring Alcide's question.

"Well aren't you looking good? Stand up and let me see you."

"Oh, I don't really look so very different."

"Oh sure you do. Imagine you used to wear this very uniform, and now you look all fancy and ladylike. Now stand up!" she demanded.

I groaned, knowing that she wouldn't relent. Sometimes it was better to comply with another person's wishes, especially if the person was Arlene Fowler. I did as she asked, giving her a quick spin before sitting back down and ignoring the smirk on Alcide's face. I was sure I could come up with a way to wipe that off soon enough.

"Where'd all the meat on your bones go? Your Gran wouldn't even recognize you." I shrugged. I had lost a lot of weight since I'd moved to Boston. Hell, I'd started working out, something no one seemed to revere in Bon Temps. "And who's this handsome gentleman?" she asked coyly, flashing her eyes towards Alcide. "Is this your beau, Sookie?"

Before he could say anything, I reached out and patted his hand. "Yes," I said, flashing Alcide a look that he should play along. "This is Alcide. Alcide this is Arlene Fowler."

"Nice to meet you," Alrene said, though her smile fell in disappointment. "Are you good to our Sookie?"

"Of course," Alcide said, laying it on thick for his audience. "I wouldn't dream of being anything else for _Sook _here." I was going to kill him. I really was.

"Good. She deserves a good man, our girl does."

"That's what _I _keep telling her," he insisted, flashing her one of those knee-melting smiles. "Though she won't listen."

"Well aren't you a charmer?" Arlene asked, the flirtatious note back in her voice. "She's a lucky one. Now what can I get y'all to drink?"

She left immediately after taking our drink orders – mine a gin and tonic, and Alcide a respectable ale of some sort. As soon as she was gone, I grabbed the dinner menu, refusing to meet his eyes.

"So, I'm your beau Sookie?"

Fuck.

"It was for your own good," I responded, still not looking at him.

"Is that so?"

"That's so."

"Care to tell me how a waitress in Bon Temps, Louisiana knew you and your Gran?" I reluctantly raised my eyes and saw the amusement in his. "And why she calls you Sookie?"

I sighed and closed my eyes. There really wasn't a way to hide it from him.

"I was raised in Bon Temps," I said, so quickly that I hoped he wouldn't quite understand.

"You were what?"

"Raised here," I said with a huff. "In a farmhouse down on Hummingbird Lane by the cemetery. I haven't been here in three years, not since my Gran died."

He was silent as his eyes roamed my face.

"And Sookie is…?" he trailed off.

"A nickname. It's what everyone here called me."

"I like it," he said with a smile. "It suits you."

"No it doesn't," I snapped. "Sookie is the name of some Southern barmaid. Not a professional woman."

He nodded. "Fair enough. I still like you better as Sookie than Susannah."

"I'm sure you do," I said dismissively.

Arlene returned with our drinks, which couldn't have happened at a better time. I had it in my hand and finished before she could set it down, ordering another one before she could run off to another table.

"You sure Sookie?" she asked, her eyes widening with shock. "From what I remember, you were never much of a drinker. Though I suppose living with all those Yankees probably changed a few things about you."

I didn't dignify her question with a response other than a short nod of the head.

She looked at Alcide with a worried look on her face. "Well, I suppose she's got you to take care of her, doesn't she?" she asked flirtatiously.

"Yeah," Alcide drawled. "I'll see that she makes it to bed in one piece."

Arlene giggled. "I wouldn't mind you seein' me to bed in one piece." Her eyes darted over to meet mine. "That is, of course, if you were a single man. You're a lucky lady, Sookie Stackhouse."

Alcide reached across the table and grabbed my hand, giving me the most ridiculous smile I'd ever seen. "What do you think?" he asked. "Are you a lucky lady?"

I closed my eyes and mumbled under my breath, "I'd be luckier if I had my damned drink."

"What's that, darling?" Alcide asked, squeezing my fingers.

"I said 'I'm as lucky as you think,' darling," I responded, digging my fingernails into his palm. "Now, can you get that drink for me Arlene? And we'll take some of Sam's wings too."

Arlene looked between us and nodded before turning on her heel and leaving.

"You're going to eat wings?" Alcide asked incredulously. "But what if you get some on your hands, or god forbid that pretty dress of yours?"

"_Darling,_" I said with a smirk. "Why don't you let me worry about what gets on my hands and dress, and you worry about what gets on yours."

Two gin and tonics and a dozen of Sam's famous wings later, and I was in an infinitely better mood. Oh, the company hadn't improved; if anything, the more I drank the more I disliked him. Alcohol had never affected me that way, I'd never decided I liked someone that I couldn't stand before. No. I was as stubborn drunk as I was sober. It did, however, make me feel more comfortable being at Merlotte's. Other than Arlene and Sam, no one else had seemed to recognize me, or at least they hadn't bothered to come over and talk to me.

"You ready?" Alcide asked as I finished the last drop of my drink.

I looked across the table at him, taking in the scruff that covered his jaw, its darkness in contrast to the skin underneath. My eyes traveled down his jaw line to his neck and finally rested on the skin above the v-neck of his simple cotton t-shirt. Before I could stop it, visions of his bare chest flashed in front of my eyes.

"Yes," I said, a little too gruffly. "Let's go."

We didn't say a word as we walked out to his truck, nor on the drive home. He turned the radio to the one station that came through clearly, and strains of a steel guitar played gently in the background. I stared out the window, watching the familiar mile markers go by. I giggled as we passed Jane Bodehouse's house, and the clothing line we'd stolen her gigantic pair of panties from.

"What's funny?" Alcide's deep voice asked from across the cab of the truck.

"Oh, nothing," I said, unable to stop myself from turning the giggle into an outright laugh.

"Tell me," he insisted.

"You wouldn't think it's funny."

"Try me, Sookie."

I glared at him for using the nickname. "Susannah," he corrected.

I sighed, shrugged my shoulders and began to tell him about Tara and my 10 year old escapade. I was laughing so hard by the time I got to us getting caught, that I wondered if I'd ever catch my breath again. When I did manage to regain some composure, I looked over at Alcide and was a little thrown off when I saw him staring back at me with admiration in his eyes.

"What?" I asked, shifting uncomfortably in the seat as he pulled into the driveway, if you could call the muddy river that had taken over a driveway.

"I just never would have thought you had that in you," he said.

"Why's that?"

"Cause you act like such a little goodie-two shoes, and walk around like a woman that has never ever done anything wrong in her entire life."

"That's hardly fair," I gasped.

He shrugged. "I'm just saying it like it is."

"You don't even know me," I responded, throwing my hands up in the air. "Who are you to judge me?"

"I know enough about you to know that you'd never tell Bill that story."

"Bill has nothing to do with it."

"That's where you're wrong, Chere," he said, his voice full of regret. "Bill has _everything _to do with it."

The anger and resentment that had been building in me for weeks suddenly exploded. "Fuck you Alcide Herveaux," I said, wrenching the door open and jumping out.

The rain had begun to come down again, splashing the mud puddles that it had left in the driveway. I cursed under my breath as I felt my shoes sink in the ground. There went $750.

I heard his door slam shut on the other side of the truck as I tried to pry my foot loose of the suction that had nearly swallowed my foot. I jerked hard at my leg, which only resulted in my foot moving, and my shoe remaining where it had been swallowed by the ground.

I growled in anger and pushed forward, not caring that I sunk further into the ground with every step I took or that the rain had soaked my hair and dress.

"Sookie," Alcide's voice said from much closer than it should be.

"What?" I asked, refusing to look and look at the man in front of me. How in the hell had he managed to get all the way around the truck without getting stuck and I'd barely gone five steps.

"Let me help you." He reached out and tried to take my hand, which I slapped away.

"I don't need your help!" I barked, finally looking up at him. "What don't you get about that?"

The rain poured down his face, gluing his wild hair to his head and forming perfect droplets of water at its tips. The t-shirt he wore clung to his body, yet he stood there, patiently waiting for me.

I tried to push past him, but only managed to fall forward. Great. All I needed was to be covered in mud. What a great way to end the night. Only, I didn't hit the ground. Instead, I was swept up into a pair of muscular arms and held firmly against the chest I had tried all night to forget.

"Stop being such a stubborn ass," he growled, ducking his head as he moved effortlessly towards the house. I didn't struggle; there wasn't a point. If I did and he set me down, I'd end up face down in the mud.

When we were safely on the veranda, I pushed at his chest and groaned when it didn't budge.

"Let me go," I demanded, kicking my feet wildly.

"What is wrong with you?" he asked, holding me tighter.

"There is _nothing _wrong with me. You're the one that is refusing to let me go."

"You could at least say thank you. I did carry you through the mud."

"When I told you I didn't need your help."

He groaned in frustration, loosening his grip enough to set me down on my feet though still holding me pressed against his body. I felt a bit ridiculous, standing there with one four-inch heel and the other foot bare and covered in mud.

"Let go," I growled.

"No," he said, looking down at me. A single droplet of water fell off his hair and landed on my cheek, not that it made any difference since I was soaked through and through. He let go of my waist with one hand, bringing it up to brush my wet hair out of my face.

I shivered, convinced that it was a chill associated with being drenched and had nothing to do with the tenderness of his touch.

"Alcide," I said, my voice tight and high.

He silenced me with one finger, rubbing it gently back and forth across my lips.

"I shouldn't like you," he whispered.

"I don't like you," I responded, though whether it was a reassurance to myself was unclear at that moment.

He laughed and moved his hand to my cheek, running his thumb down my neck before entangling his fingers in the hair at the nape of my neck. I saw the intent in his eyes. It mirrored the thoughts my body was screaming at me, but I couldn't do it. No. I wouldn't do it.

"No," I whispered, shaking my head.

"Yes," he responded, slowly lowering his lips to my mouth.

His mouth moved against mine, brushing gently as he waited for my response. I remained still, in shock as my body screamed at me to move against him. Only when I pressed myself against him, did he deepen the kiss. I whimpered as his tongue parted my lips and he began a lazy exploration of my mouth. My hands, which had been pinned between our bodies, found their way down his chest and encircled his waist, pulling him closer to me.

"I've thought about doing this again for the last week," he mumbled against my mouth, moving his lips down to pepper kisses along my jaw. "Every time you waltzed by in those damned heels of yours I thought about doing this." He suckled at my neck as his fingers danced across the small of my back.

"Alcide," I whimpered.

He lifted me off my feet, his mouth never leaving my skin as he walked us to the front door and pushed it open, carrying me through the doorway and kicking it shut behind him with his muddy boot.

His hands worked quickly, the zipper of my dress no match for a man on a mission. It fell into a pool of wet yellow cotton at my feet, which I stepped out of, kicking my one remaining shoe off with it. I shivered from the cold and with anticipation when he stepped away from me, peeling the wet t-shirt off his body and kicking out of his heavy work boots.

His hands stilled at the waistband of his pants as he looked up at me, his eyes heavy with desire. "If I'd known you were wearing that underneath, I would've done this a lot earlier," he said with a smirk, raking his eyes over the lace that comprised the cups of my bra and boyshorts.

His pants were off in a flash, leaving him in a pair of semi-dry boxer briefs. The distance between us was closed in a flash and I found myself pressed back against the door, his hands were everywhere, kneading and touching every inch of my skin as his mouth devoured mine.

I moaned as his fingers dipped into the cups of my bra, flicking against my hardened nipples. He pulled at the straps of my bra, pushing the cups down to expose my breasts fully to his hands and mouth. When that wasn't enough, he reached around and flicked the clasp open, the bra dropping between us. "So beautiful," he murmured as he placed open mouthed kisses across my chest.

I grasped at him impatiently, raking my fingernails across his arms and back, desperate to have him closer to me.

"Eager, are we Princess?" he asked with a laugh, obliging me by grabbing my thigh and wrapping it around his waist. We moved against each other, feeling each other beneath the lace and cotton barriers in place.

I bit my lip and nodded, pushing myself against him.

"I'm more than happy to do as you say," he teased. His hands traced the waistband of my underwear, one reaching down to clasp my butt as the other snaked down my stomach grazed over my center. I moaned as his fingers danced over the fabric before sliding underneath and into me.

I whimpered, pushing myself against his exploring fingers. "Fuck Sookie," he growled as my body convulsed around him. I managed to giggle when he impatiently pushed my underwear down to my feet, and his quickly followed suit. I slumped against the door, sliding down to the floor on my weak knees, unable to hold my body up without his support as I watched him rifle in the pocket of his jeans and come out with a foil rapper.

He laughed when he saw me on the floor and quickly scooped me up in his arms. He carried me towards the kitchen and set me down on his work table, stepping between my legs. I felt his hardness against my thigh and let out a whimper, pulling his face down to mine.

His hands fumbled with the condom wrapper, and I reached down to take it from him. He moaned against my mouth as I took him in my hands, stroking him before I unrolled the condom onto him and guided him to my entrance.

"You're sure?" he asked.

Hell yes I was sure. I wasn't going to come this far just to say no.

I nodded pulled him towards me. "Yes I'm sure Alcide," I whispered.

His pushed his hips forward, easing into me with a groan of satisfaction. My body writhed beneath him, arching up to match his movements with my own, our joining reaching a harried pace before I trembled beneath him and he followed me over the edge.

I fell back against the table, pulling him with me and reveling in the feel of his body pressed against mine. We remained in silence, his head resting on my breast as I traced lazy circles across his back.

After what seemed like forever, he propped himself up on his elbows and looked down at me with a smile on his face.

"What?" I asked.

"Just thinking," he responded.

"Just thinking what?"

"Just thinking that you're a damned good addition to my work table."

"Is that so?" I asked, trying to look at him with indignation, which turned into a laugh. "Well, you'd best not slack off on your real job. I'd hate for you to go cold now."

"Oh, I'm a hard worker Miz Stackhouse," he said, leaning down to kiss my breasts. "I'm willing to put in the time and the manual labor." I gasped when his hands reached down between us and brushed against me. "After all," he said with a grin, "the heat is in the tools."

**AN:** As many of you know, the next round of Author Auction's for Support Stacie begins tonight at midnight. There are tons of amazing authors up for bid (um, hello Thyra10) and it is a really great cause. I have two offers (one for a NOM one-shot and one for an original one-shot). If you're sick of Alcide (which really, I hope you're not because you're reading this!) and want me to get back to Eric, YOU can make that happen with cold hard cash (Money, cash, hoes. Money, cash, chicks. What?).

Go visit the board and bid on one of the great authors out there here: www . supportstacie . com/phpBB3/viewforum . php?f=24


	6. Chapter 6

When choosing between two evils, I always like to try the one I've never tried before.

~Mae West

**Chapter 6**

**APOV**

I watched in admiration as Sookie propped herself up from our position on the floor in the kitchen and walked away from me, throwing a devilish smile over her shoulder as she walked towards the bathroom.

"Hurry back Sookie," I said, with a low growl as I took in the perfection of her naked form, marred only by the stubble burn that adorned her body; stubble burn that I had put there as I investigated every inch of her. Despite her protests, I wouldn't be able to think of her as anything but Sookie from here on out. Susannah was the ice princess that kept her distance and drove me crazy; Sookie was the spitfire who had shown up a week ago at my work desk, and again tonight, and left me with a few souvenir markings of my own.

When she was fully out of view, I rolled onto my back, propping my hands behind my head and going over the previous hours. I hadn't expected anything to happen when we got trapped by the rain – if anything, I expected Sookie to scamper off to her corner and work through the night. She was dedicated, that was for sure. And even if I had suspected she was interested after her sneak-preview of my body in the bathroom, she seemed like the type of woman that had an enormous sense of restraint. I would have thought that after the moment we'd shared the week before, the way she'd responded to me, if anything was going to happen, she wouldn't have waited this long.

For once, I was glad that I was wrong when it came to her.

I had been surprised when she agreed to go to dinner with me, and I couldn't even think of a word for my reaction when I found out that Susannah Stackhouse was a native of Bon Temps, Louisiana. She sure as hell could have fooled me with that proper accent and icy exterior – from what I knew of the folks of Bon Temps, proper and icy didn't apply. And, beyond that, I couldn't figure out why Dawson hadn't told me, well that is unless he didn't know himself, which was a distinct possibility.

She seemed ashamed of her background, something I couldn't understand. She'd made something of herself. In a town and state where young women found themselves married and pregnant more often than not, she'd gone and started a successful business. But, those were dragons she needed to slay herself. I was fortunate enough to get a peek into her background, a chance to learn more about the mystery that surrounded Susannah Stackhouse.

We'd been getting along fairly well all night, and I hadn't meant to piss her off in my truck, but I couldn't help it. And she'd looked so defiant, standing there up to her ankles in the mud of the Bellefleur mansion. I tried to stay away, truly I did, but when she fell forward and I caught her, I was done for. Her heady scent filled my nostrils, reminding me of how her lips had felt against mine. Her wet body, the one shoe dangling off her foot had done me in. I had to have her, and I did.

We'd gone another round in the kitchen, moving to the counter for better leverage. I knew she had fire in her, despite the icy exterior she tried to put up, and boy did she ever ignite underneath me.

I'd never had a woman do the things she'd done to me – never thought it was possible that I could feel so much with a simple touch, a simple gesture. I mentally ran through all the places I wanted to have her next – I had only one more condom with me, so we'd have to choose wisely. Hell, I was lucky to have one condom on me, much less three that had enabled the full on melting of the Ice Princess. If it hadn't been for my sister shoving a handful towards me as I left her house this morning and telling me I "needed to get laid," I would have been out of luck.

I was going over my short list for the use of the last one when I saw Sookie stop in the open doorway of the kitchen. She had returned with two cotton sheets Malcolm had brought to cover the furniture when he was painting – one was wrapped securely around her body, and she held the other one out to me, averting her eyes in the process.

"What's wrong Princess?" I asked with a smirk. "Don't tell me that you've gone shy on me in the last three minutes?"

Her eyes darted to mine, their blue depths awash in confusion. "Of course not," she said firmly. "I just thought you might have a chill."

I stood up and walked towards her, grabbing the sheet from her hand and tossing it to the side. "I'd say we did a fairly good job of heating each other up already, wouldn't you?"

She gasped when I grabbed the edge of the sheet and pulled her towards me, the roughness of the coarse material a stark contrast to her skin underneath. "I'd be happy to warm you up again," I murmured as I buried my face into her neck, rubbing my stubbled face along her neck. "Anywhere in particular?"

She hesitated briefly, almost imperceptibly, before clasping her hands behind my neck and pulling my face down to meet hers. Her eyes were full of desire as she looked at me, all traces of uncertainty melted away for the time being.

Without a word she released her clasp on me and spun on her heel. My hands reached out to grab her, but she playfully slapped them away and continued forward. When she was out of arms length, she turned and made a motion for me to follow her. As if I could do anything else. We padded through the house in silence, stopping in front of the large fireplace that Terry had finished the day before.

"Planning on building a fire Princess?" I asked with a smirk, sitting down where she indicated on the makeshift rug.

She rolled her eyes and walked over to the fire, pressing a button that sparked the fire. "Who needs to a build a fire anymore? Terribly convenient isn't it?"

I leaned back on my hands and cocked my eyebrow at her. "What, Bill can't be bothered with the real thing?"

She stiffened at the mention of Bill's name and I cursed myself. Why I had brought him up, I didn't know. I supposed that a part of me wanted to see her reaction, to see if my initial assessment was right and that she had a thing for Bill Compton. Then another part of me, a bigger part of me, didn't care. She'd let me touch her – well, more than touch her in the man's house. No one could be that hung up on another and fuck someone else in their house. Of that I was sure.

"Forget it," I said, reaching out to grab her hand in mine and pull her to the ground. Her eyes looked uncertain as she sunk to her knees, the uncertainty lessening as I pulled the sheet away from her. The light from the fire behind Sookie flickered, casting shadows which danced across her bare skin.

"I-"she started. I reached out and placed my finger on her lips, silencing her.

"Don't," I whispered, pulling her flush against me. I wanted her to stop thinking. Thinking led to problems. We had no time for problems.

I buried my face in her neck, nibbling where I had learned she liked, and the next time I looked into her eyes, all traces of uncertainty were gone.

**~One Week Later~**

"What in the fuck is wrong with you Rene?" I asked, running a frustrated hand through my hair. The tile for the master bath had come in finally. The same tile that had started the problem with Sookie, and that led to our first kiss. But I wasn't about to get sidetracked by the memory of some ridiculous ceramic squares. I couldn't afford to.

Rene looked at me with that cocky, lazy grin of his and shrugged. "I don't know what you mean."

I walked over to the corner he'd started on and pointed impatiently at the progress he'd made. "When did you get so fucking lazy?"

"Chill Alcide," he said.

"Start over," I commanded.

"No way," he said, standing up to his full height, which was well below my own.

"That wasn't a request Rene."

"I'm not wasting my time and starting over cause that Ice Bitch is coming back today," he said, the irritation rising in his voice.

I felt my own temper rise as the words tumbled out of his mouth. I'd never seen Rene like this on a job. He was defiant and indolent, doing a piss poor job just because he could. He'd already fucked up the tile he'd started in the kitchen, something we'd gone toe-to-toe about until Hoyt had stepped in and said he'd start over. But this was it. This was the final straw.

"This has nothing to do with Miss Stackhouse," I said, utilizing my height advantage as I stepped closer. "This has to do with the reputation of Herveaux and Sons. And if you can't do your job, then I'll have to get someone else that can. Shouldn't be hard these days," I threatened, my voice rising with every word.

"Alcide," Hoyt's voice called from the hallway. "I'll-"

"Stay out of it Hoyt," Rene and I said at the same time, not breaking the stare down we'd started.

"This is no different than any other job," I said. "I'm still the one you're reporting to, not Miss Stackhouse. You'd do good to remember that."

Rene smirked and crossed his arms over his chest. "You need to stop thinking with your dick man."

I felt my blood boil and did everything I could to stop myself from throttling him. "What in the fuck does that mean?"

"You know what it means," he said. "Just 'cause some fancy Yankee bitch comes waltzing in with her tight skirts and high heels doesn't mean you've got to be an asshole. Bros before hoes man."

"I've had enough of your shit," I said, taking a step back.

"Relax man," he said, clearly not taking me seriously. "Maybe if you hit that shit, you'd get your head out of your ass."

"Get out." I pointed in the direction of the door, looking to see that Hoyt had been joined by an audience that was watching our showdown. "What in the hell are you all looking at?" I barked. They scattered immediately, running to busy themselves before they found themselves in Rene's position.

"You're kidding," Rene said from behind me.

"I'm not. You're done here." I stepped back and indicated for him to pass in front of me. "If my Dad wants to keep you on, that's his decision. But you're not working here anymore."

Rene looked at me incredulously before throwing down the trowel in his hand and exiting, mumbling under his breath. I didn't catch what he said, but got the gist when I heard "bitch" and "fuck." Good riddance.

I made my way back to my makeshift desk in the kitchen and sat down to go over the plans one more time.

I was in a fucking awful mood, and Rene was just icing on the cake. Nothing had gone right this week. The rain had let up enough for Sookie and me to get to Shreveport, enough to get her out on her plane to Boston, and had started up again. Today was the first day it had been clear enough for the delivery truck to make it across the bridge to the Bellefleur house, and we were now five days behind schedule.

Add all that to the fact that Sookie was coming in today, and needless to say I was on edge. I hadn't heard from her since she'd left the morning after we'd been rained in. We'd been woken up early by a call from Bill Compton, wondering where she was. I had tried not to be bothered by the way she pulled away from me when she realized who was on the other end, or the way that she had left the living room to take the call in private. We'd slept together. It wasn't as if we were getting married or even dating for that matter.

When she returned, she was fully dressed, her hair pulled back into an efficient bun. She'd been businesslike as she told me that Bill's plane was waiting for her at the airfield in Shreveport. Of course he'd send his plane down for her. Hell, I'd send a plane to get her too if we could go another round together. I'd dressed with reluctance and helped her out to her car, swinging her suitcase into the back of the convertible. She'd stood there in front of me; her eyes hidden by the large sunglasses on her face, and thanked me for my assistance. She fucking thanked me. I'd pulled the sunglasses off her head and kissed her abruptly, maybe a little roughly, and opened her car door for her. She'd gotten in looking dazed and drove away.

That was the last I'd seen or heard from her. Well, I'd received one email from her assistant notifying me that she would be delayed three days, which brought us to today. She was ten minutes late.

I heard the tires of Rene's work truck on the freshly laid gravel of the driveway and looked up when I heard two horns honk angrily at each other. I made my way over to the window and saw a shiny gold SUV coming down the drive. That could only mean one thing. Sookie was back.

I sat back down at my desk, not wanting to look eager when she finally did come inside. Never mind that my foul mood lightened immensely at the knowledge that she was back. Fucking traitorous mind.

"Working hard I see," her voice said from behind me, causing my stomach to flip despite my best efforts. I waited a moment to compose myself before I spun around on my stool. Good thing I did, because when I did I saw that Sookie wasn't alone. The good news was that it wasn't Bill Compton standing next to her. The bad news is that I didn't have a fucking clue who it was.

"Susannah," I said with a smile. "I was wondering when you'd get here."

She looked down at her watch and back up at me impatiently. "I'm twenty minutes late," she said. "But it looks like I could've taken another four days to get here, with what you've accomplished while I've been away."

Ah, okay, ball buster Stackhouse was back to play. At least I knew now.

"Well," I said, standing up from the stool and closing the distance between us, "when the roads into Shreveport, it'd take an act of God to get a truck in. Something even you can't do Miz Stackhouse."

The man standing beside Sookie let out a loud laugh and stepped forward. "This one's got you pegged Sookie."

Sookie? Did this man want his balls handed to him on a platter? Even I knew better than to call her Sookie.

The man stepped forward, offering me his hand. "You must be Alcide."

I nodded, looking over his shoulder at Sookie who remained still. "Yeah," I said, returning my gaze to the man in front of me. "Sorry, but I don't know who you are."

"Blame Miss Rudepants back there," he said, clasping my hand. "I'm Lafayette Reynolds, Stackhouse Design's premiere interior designer." He let go of my hand and turned back to face Sookie. "You done with your vapors yet? I can see why you were so anxious to get here now that I've seen this one."

Sookie shut her eyes and groaned. I could see her trying to compose herself and take charge of the situation. She reached up and patted her hair. "Lafayette," she hissed and opened her eyes.

"What?" he asked in mock defense.

"Why don't you give yourself a tour of the place? Mr. Herveaux and I have some work to do."

Lafayette looked between Sookie and me with a knowing glint in his eyes. "I'm sure you do. Hell, I wouldn't mind doing some work with Mr. Herveaux myself." He walked out of the room before Sookie could say anything more and we found ourselves alone.

"Did you have to bring a bodyguard to protect yourself from me Princess?" I asked, taking a step towards her. I didn't know what it was about her, but I wanted to push her buttons, to get a rise out of her.

"Hardly," she scoffed, yet took a step backwards. "Lafayette is the best in the business. He wanted to come and see the project for himself, since he'll be ordering the furniture once your team is done with the remodeling."

"Hmmm." I was so close I could smell her perfume, and my body responded immediately. I leaned down and whispered in her ear. "Why didn't you call me?"

Her breath hitched and she placed her hand on my chest in a move that was meant to hold me back, but backfired when it spread heat through my body. And, if the speed of her breathing was any indication, it did the same for her.

"Alcide," she said, her voice faltering. "We need to work together. I don't think it would be proper to continue the, erm, relationship we started."

I chuckled clasped her hand in mine. "I don't care much about propriety Sookie."

"Susannah," she corrected.

"As I said, Sookie," she scowled, but didn't break my gaze. "Screw propriety. I've thought of nothing else than picking up where we left off last week."

"Is that why nothing's been done around here?" she quipped.

I ignored her and continued, lowering my voice even further so that she'd have to strain her ears to listen. "Sitting here at my desk, all I can think about is how you looked when you were on it naked. Look at it." She did. "Remember how it felt when I was on you. In you?"

She shut her eyes and let out a whimper. Good. I was getting to her.

"Cause I remember Sookie," I said with a smirk. "And right now, all I want to do is flip up that little skirt of yours and see what you're wearing underneath."

"I'm not interested," she said, opening her eyes and meeting my gaze again.

"Is that so?"

"Yes. That's so."

Keeping her hand pinned to my chest, I raised my other hand and cupped the side of her face, running my thumb across her full bottom lip. She didn't say anything, didn't make a move to get away from me. I could see the internal battle raging inside her eyes.

"So you're saying that this doesn't do anything to you?"

She reluctantly shook her head.

"Hmmm." I stepped closer, lowering my head to hers. "How about this?" Before she could protest, I pressed against the wall behind her hard and fast, capturing her lips with my own. She moaned, her lips vibrating against mine as she opened them. I heard the noise of the workers in the distance, but I didn't care. I was proving a point.

When she was good and pliant, I stepped back, completely letting go of her.

"Well Princess, did that do anything for you?"

She looked at me with hatred in her eyes as she pushed herself from the wall. "I don't even need to answer that," she said. "Obviously you know that it does."

"Then why pretend? Why try to go back?"

"Because, Mr. Herveaux, I have no interest in getting into a relationship with you." She reached down and picked up the notepad she'd dropped when I'd kissed her.

"Who said anything about a relationship?" Her head snapped up, and she stood up slowly from her crouched position, notepad in hand. "We screwed Princess. It was good. I'd like to do it again. Get it out of our systems."

She looked at me incredulously and shook her head. "I'm not that kind of girl."

"Really now?" I was being an asshole, and I knew it. But hell, every time I was an asshole, she let me kiss her. I could be a full time dick if it meant I got a response from her. "I hate to argue with a lady, but…"

"You're incredible."

"Thank you," I said, deliberately misinterpreting her meaning.

When she looked at me, slack jawed and at a loss for words, I sauntered over to my stool and sat down. "Think about it Princess. I'm just saying that we've got the perfect arrangement here. We had hot sex. I enjoyed it. I know you enjoyed it. Why not do it again? We have to work together for six weeks, then we'll never have to see each other again. It's the perfect no-strings situation."

Before she could respond, Lafayette returned to the kitchen, looking back and forth between us with amusement.

"You two getting along alright?"

"Fine," I said. "Just fine." I turned my eyes to Sookie's and smiled. "You let me know when you've made a decision."


	7. Chapter 7

"Don't have sex man. It leads to kissing and pretty soon you have to start talking to them."

Steve Martin

**Chapter 7**

**SPOV**

This was why I made plans.

This was exactly why I didn't stray from them.

I didn't know what to do.

My heart was in my throat the minute I saw Alcide again, and that was just the back of him. I had tried not to think of him after I drove away from the Bellefleur mansion last Saturday morning. It wouldn't do to think about something that wouldn't happen again. No. _Couldn't _happen again.

It wasn't just a mistake, it was a disaster. I could have had sex with anyone. It wasn't as if I'd been celibate for the past two years while I waited for Bill to come around. I would have died of frustration if I was still sitting around and waiting. But the men that helped me in that arena wouldn't say anything, and didn't even know who Bill Compton was. I'd screwed up this time. Alcide was Bill's family friend. How could I have been so stupid as to let my raging hormones take over and possibly hinder any chance I had at my plan?

I berated myself the entire way to Shreveport. While the sex-giddy voice inside of my head was cheering me on, the logical side was doing her best job to bitch slap the hell out of her. Who cared that Alcide Herveaux was divine looking, or that he did things to my body I hadn't thought were possible? Good sex did not move my career forward. Good sex and killer abs did not fit into my plan. Well, scratch that. I was hoping the sex with Bill would be good, if we ever got to that stage. But that was beside the point. I somehow had to get back to a working relationship with Alcide, to make sure that Bill never found out about the night the two of us had had in his house.

_God. Why had it been in his house?_If it hadn't been lurid enough, just sleeping with his childhood friend, we had done it in the kitchen of the house he hoped to raise his family in. His family that I hoped to be a part of? Was I mentally ill? No. Not last I checked, other than what Lafayette liked to call my OCD.

I'd fallen asleep on the plane from Shreveport to Boston, thankful for the plush seats of Bill's private jet. Bill had a car waiting for me at the airfield, though he was not there himself. It was probably for the best. I hadn't been able to shower before leaving Shreveport. I could still smell Alcide on my skin, and while I doubted Bill would be able to pick up his scent, I didn't want to risk it.

I had been due back in Shreveport early the following week, but had taken every excuse to delay my return. It wasn't that I was afraid of seeing Alcide. I was Susannah Stackhouse. I wasn't afraid of anything. No. We were busy. Taking the Compton job had meant pushing other projects off on my employees, and as the owner of the business, it was my reputation on the line.

So, instead of returning on Tuesday as planned, I flew back on Friday. It was exactly one week since the night of the Alcide incident, and this time I'd be staying in Shreveport and Bon Temps over the weekend. It would be the first weekend that I stayed since starting the job. My schedule usually called for me to fly in on Tuesday and out on Friday, but with the delay I needed every day I could get. At least I had Lafayette to keep me company. He was the one person who knew about my past, and he was my best friend. Well, my only friend really.

He sensed something was off the minute we climbed into the rental car.

"What's wrong Sook?" he asked. He insisted on calling me Sookie, despite my numerous protests.

"Nothing," I said, my voice higher than normal. "Why would you ask that?"

"Don't you play games with me. I know you well enough to tell when something's got you in one of your moods. Something go wrong on the Compton project?"

You could say that.

"No."

"You upset cause Bill hasn't pulled his head out of his ass and asked you out yet?"

"Lafayette," I said, exasperated. I'd drunkenly told him about my five year plan that included Bill Compton, something he wouldn't ever let me forget.

He raised his hands in mock defense. "I'll figure it out sooner or later Sookie. You know I always do."

I should have known better than to bring him down with me. Here I was thinking that he'd be a great barrier for any interactions I had to have with Alcide, and it was undoubtedly going to backfire in my face. I forgot how good Lafayette was at reading me.

Thankfully he dropped it, choosing instead to make running commentary about the scenery as we drove from Shreveport to Bon Temps. Lafayette had been from the South himself, but he was the first to admit that he burned all his memories the minute he moved up North. His chatter was exactly what I needed to calm myself down as we drove towards the Bellefleur place, towards Alcide Herveaux.

As I pulled into the long driveway, happy to see that it had been regravelled in my absence, we nearly had a head-on collision with one of the Herveaux & Sons trucks that was tearing out of the driveway. I blared the horn, hoping to get the attention of the unseen driver, and was shocked when the driver blared their horn back at me and swerved around my car without slowing down. As the truck passed, I saw the profile of Rene Lenier, who saluted me with his middle finger.

It was the perfect greeting for my return, and set me in just the mood I needed to be in to face Alcide. I hadn't planned on sending Lafayette away and definitely hadn't planned on getting kissed and propositioned by Alcide while he was giving himself a tour. Lafayette was supposed to be my big, gay cock-blocker, not an enabler. The way he looked between Alcide and me when he re-entered the kitchen was enough to tell me he knew exactly what was going on, or at least suspected it.

Laf didn't say anything the rest of the day, or at least not about Alcide, and I managed to steer clear of Alcide's path for the most part. There was the moment when we passed each other in the hallway, and I felt him sniff at me and heard him let out a groan of appreciation as I passed, but I didn't respond.

I was floored by his proposition frankly. I wasn't a prude by any means, but I hadn't been prepared for what he had in mind. Despite his good looks and blunt attitude, Alcide didn't seem like the kind of guy that would get involved with someone like me. He seemed too professional to consider messing up a working relationship just so he could have sex.

I let out a sigh of relief when Alcide popped his head inside the room Lafayette and I were working in and told us that he was leaving for the day. Herveaux and Sons was contracted to work Monday through Friday, and that meant I had two glorious days to get work done without the interruption. I'd dismissed Lafayette's look when Alcide told me to call his cell if I changed my mind or needed anything, and turned back to the drawings in front of me. I was in work mode. Here I could be in control.

We returned to Shreveport when it started to get dark, Lafayette insisting that he hadn't flown down to spend the night in some hillbilly town, even if it was the one I was raised in. We had plans to shop for antique furniture for the restored mansion the next day, and then Laf had to return back to Boston for a charity function. The promise of untouched antiques had been the only way I'd been able to entice Lafayette to come with me at all.

I was exhausted by the time we checked into the hotel. Tired from travel and the length of the day, and emotionally spent from spending so many hours keeping thoughts of Alcide at bay. I fell into bed, thinking I'd be asleep by the time my head hit the pillow, and I was. For 20 minutes. Then I woke up, and in the darkness of my hotel room with nothing else to distract me, I thought about Alcide's offer.

It would be a mistake to get attached, though that wasn't what he was offering. I'd never had this kind of thing with someone that I worked with. The men I saw to scratch my proverbial itch were men I dated casually. Men who realized that they'd always come second to my work and had were okay with being filler while I waited. It's not that what Alcide was proposing was that far off of the other arrangements I'd made over the last two years, and it would be convenient to have someone down here since I was pretty much here the next six weeks. Convenient that it was someone who I knew was compatible, at least in that area.

Memories of the night in Belle Rive place flashed across my mind before I could stop them. The way he'd looked dripping wet when he'd come inside with my suitcase; the way it had felt when he swept me in his arms and carried me inside; the way he'd kissed me. It had all been memorable. Too memorable. I'd have to figure out a plan of attack with that one. To determine if his proposition could work, or if I even wanted it to.

Oh hell, who was I kidding?

***

The little sleep that I did manage to get hadn't done much to restore my energy levels. Lafayette had been bouncing around and ready to go at eight o'clock, eager to go salvage some long-lost piece of furniture in a small-town antique store.

I was out of bed and dressed, though far from ready when he came and knocked on my door.

"You look like hell Sookie," he said when I opened the door, not mincing his words.

"Thanks Laf," I said, following him inside. I walked over to the tiny coffee maker, hoping to get another cup out of the carafe to fortify me for the day. "I just need another cup of coffee."

"Since when did you need coffee to get you up and going Sookie? I haven't seen you in anything less than your perfect state of dress after eight am."

I shrugged and turned to face him, drinking the hot liquid I'd managed to eke out. "I think I'm worn out with all the traveling."

"Don't give me that," he responded, sitting down on the sofa in the living area of the suite. "You've traveled a lot farther in a lot less time and been fine." His eyes scoured the living room before coming back to meet mine. "Why, with as tired as you look right now, I'd think you had a night visitor come and wear you out if I didn't know any better."

"Really Laf?" I asked with a laugh as I set the empty cup down on the counter and turned back to face him. "Who exactly would have been visiting me in the middle of the night in Shreveport, Louisiana?"

"I don't know," he said with a shrug. "Though I can imagine at least one that would like to."

"I don't know who you're talking about," I said with a dismissive wave of my hand.

"Sure you don't Sugarpie. I saw the way that Alcide was looking at you. And more importantly, I saw the way you were looking at him."

I felt myself blush under Lafayette's assessing gaze. Was I really that transparent?

"Why, if I didn't know any better, I would think you had a little something-something going on the side with that one. Not that I'd blame you. The man is hot. If I thought he'd give me a chance, I'd be all over him like white on rice. And if he looks that good wearing a t-shirt, I can only imagine what he looks like without it."

Oh, I knew exactly how he looked without it.

"That's ridiculous," I said, my voice much weaker than I intended.

"Oh, come now Sookie, just cause you've got the hots for Bill Compton – which I don't understand by the way – doesn't mean you can't appreciate a fine specimen of man when it crosses your path. Alcide Herveaux is sex on a stick. Those muscles need some appreciating. And those green eyes? They could melt you right on the spot. I can only imagine what they'd look like in the heat of the moment. Mmmm," he said, closing his eyes. "But like I said, I haven't got a chance with that one. You, on the other hand, should do whatever you can to hit that."

"Yes, well…" I trailed off, looking around for something that would distract Lafayette before I said anything that would give me away. When nothing came to mind, I quickly changed the subject. "Are you ready to go?"

"You did, didn't you?!" _Crap_.

"Did what?"

He looked at me and a smile broke out across his face. Before he could say anything, I continued, "Are we leaving or do you plan to sit there and play twenty questions all day?"

"Oh no, you don't!" he screeched, jumping up and running over to me. "You don't get to change the subject. Please tell me you've already hit that. Please Sookie?"

I bit my lip and shook my head. "No, of course not. Don't be-"

"Yes you did! Don't you even try to lie to me. I know you better than that, and you've always been a terrible liar. When? Where? Details! And more importantly, when are you going to do it again?"

"I'm not going to do it again," I said immediately, silently cursing myself for admitting I'd done it in the first place.

"So you did do it?"

I nodded. Hell, I had said as much, hadn't I?

"Hallelujah. And here I thought you had gone into full on boring with how much you've been hanging out with Bill Compton."

"Bill is not boring!" I said, for probably the hundredth time to Lafayette. "He's sweet and polite. That doesn't make him boring."

"If you say so. But let's not waste anymore time talking about Bill Compton. Tell me about your little rendezvous with the handyman."

"He's not a handyman, Lafayette."

"Of course he isn't. But it's more fun to think of him as the handyman and you as the little lady of the house having a torrid affair."

"We're not having an affair."

"Mmm hmm. Well, whatever you want to call it. When did it happen?"

"Last Friday," I responded, and walked over to sit on the couch Lafayette had just vacated. When he got on a roll like this, there was no stopping him. I figured I might as well get comfortable. He followed behind, taking the seat next to me and looking at me expectantly. "When I was rained into Bon Temps."

"What happened?"

I blushed as I began to recall exactly what happened and decided what parts I wanted to edit. "We went to dinner at Merlotte's. I ran into some people from my past that I had hoped not to see and he found out about my past." Lafayette's eyes widened with shock. He knew better than anyone that no one knew where I came from. "We were getting along well, for once – "

"I'd say more than getting along, Sugarpie." I stopped him with one look.

"Do you want me to continue?" He nodded. "And he said something in the truck on the way back that made me mad. It was raining and I tried to get back into the house by myself, only I got stuck in the mud. He…well he picked me up and carried me inside. And the rest, as they say, is magic."

"He carried you?" I nodded. "Well if that isn't just romantic, I don't know what is."

"Laf, there was nothing romantic about that night. We had sex. Hot, dirty, wet sex. And I left the next day."

"Have you talked to him since?" I shook my head. "Well no wonder he was looking at you like he couldn't decide whether to kill you or ravage you. I thought it was just your charming work personality that caused that."

I shrugged. "There wasn't a point. It shouldn't have happened."

"Like hell it shouldn't have," Laf said, sitting forward and taking my hands in his. "Girl, this is what the doctor ordered. You're wound up so tight, I'm afraid you're going to combust one of these days. A good fuck from a good man like Alcide is just what you need."

"That's so crass," I said, squirming in my chair.

"You fucked that man in Bill Compton's house and you're telling me I'm crass?" he asked with a laugh. "How was it?"

"None of your business!" I exclaimed.

"I'll bet it was good," he said, nodding to himself. "I was wondering where that glow came from when we had brunch last Sunday. And if a fuck can leave you glowing for forty-eight hours, it's bound to be good."

My embarrassment overtook me. I would have gladly melted into the sofa beneath me if I could have.

"Can we please talk about something else? Anything else?"

"When are you going to fuck him again?"

"Lafayette! I already told you that it's not going to happen again!"

"And I already told you that it should. No. It is. Hell, you're not going to be able to stay away from that for six weeks, not if he keeps looking at you the way he was yesterday."

I grimaced. I'd had that same thought last night.

"I can control myself Lafayette," I said, as much to him as to myself.

"That's exactly my point," he retorted, continuing when I looked at him with a confused expression. "You're the queen of being in control, of making plans, right?" I nodded. "Why not just make Alcide part of your plan?"

"It doesn't work like that."

"Why can't it?"

"He knows Bill!" I exclaimed. "I can't have sex with him and have Bill find out about it."

"Honey, if Bill hasn't already found out about your sexcapades last week, I don't think Alcide is going to spill now. He seems like a smart man, and smart men know you don't tattle on the pussy that is given to you."

"Lafayette!" I shrieked, smacking his arm. He knew how much I hated that word.

"Sorry. Sorry. You don't kiss and tell if you want to kiss again. There, is that better?" I nodded. "If it was as good as I think it was, I'm guessing he's ready to go another round, am I right?"

"Um. Yes," I squeaked, and relayed the proposition Alcide had laid out for me the day before. Edited, of course.

"Then you've got nothing to worry about. You know he's discreet since no one else knows about it already. And you with all your control issues, you just need to take control of the situation. Map it out, or whatever it is you do with your little life plan. You may not have planned for it the first time, but you can now. It's six weeks of sex with a hot man you'll never see again."

I remembered Alcide saying those same words.

"Get it out of your system while you can; before you get tied down with some dull husband and your 2.5 children. I know you want to."

"I can't," I said, running my hands through my hair and shaking my head.

"You can," he responded, reaching out and forcing me to look at him. "You will. What've you got to lose?"

Everything. Nothing. Oh hell, I didn't know.

I watched in silence as Lafayette stood up and walked over to the kitchen, returning with my blackberry in his outstretched hand.

"Call him," Lafayette demanded, shoving the phone in my hands.

"And say what?"

"Say that you want a ticket to the fuck train."

I rolled my eyes.

"I don't care how you tell him you want to fuck him again Sookie, just tell him you do, and that you want to start again soon." I shook my head. "Do I have to go all Nike on you here Sugarpie? Just do it. Just fucking do it."

I took a deep breath and looked down at the phone in my hands. If every night was going to be like last night, if every day was going to be full of Alcide's subtle (and not so subtle) innuendo, I wouldn't make it another day, much less six weeks. Maybe Lafayette was right. Obviously Alcide hadn't spilled the beans about the two of us to anyone – the crew hadn't treated me differently, and I'd been with Bill every day I'd been in Boston, so I knew he didn't know either.

I sat back and ran through the possible scenarios in my head. If I could control the situation as Lafayette suggested, maybe it would work out. We'd have to set some ground rules obviously, the first being that there would be absolutely no more of that behavior at Bill's house. It had been fine at the time, well more than fine, but it couldn't happen again. Not if I planned to live there eventually, and I still planned to live there eventually.

But, yes. If Alcide could agree to the terms and conditions, we may be able to work something out.

I took a deep breath and stared at the black screen on my phone. It was worth asking, right?

"Do it," Lafayette encouraged.

"Fine," I barked, standing up and walking towards the bedroom. "But I'm not going to have you sit there and listen while I do it."

"You better not back out Sookie. I have ways of finding out."

"Get bent Lafayette," I said with a smile and kicked the bedroom door shut with my foot before leaning back against it.

I could do this. I could. I was a grown woman with sexual needs. The worst he could say was no, right?

I leaned back against the door behind me, slinking down until I was sitting on the floor. I buried my head in my hands, taking a deep breath as I worked up the nerve to do this. I wondered why it wasn't socially acceptable to drink at nine am. Vodka would be a handy little helper in this situation.

I scrolled until I reached _Herveaux, Alcide_ on my blackberry and closed my eyes as I pressed the green call button. I heard the ringing start before the phone was to my ear, the Verizon network apparently as eager as Lafayette was that I make this call. When the third ring sounded without answer, I thought maybe it was God's way of telling me to give in. No such luck. Before the fourth ring was finished, a very sleepy Alcide Herveaux answered.

"Hello?" he asked, his voice rough with sleep. I was glad I was sitting, for surely that alone would have made me weak in the knees.

"Alcide?" I asked, my voice a mere squeak.

"Yes." I heard a rustle in the background, and imagined that he was still in bed, which wasn't the best image to have when I meant to be coherent.

"Alcide it's Sook- erm, Susannah."

"Sookie?" he asked, his voice, suddenly alert.

"Yes." I didn't know what to say. God, why was I being so pathetic?

"What time is it?"

I looked at my watch. "It's eight-thirty."

"Why are you calling me at eight-thirty on a Saturday?"

"Well…" I trailed off.

"Not that I mind waking up to your voice two Saturdays in a row." His voice lowered, almost to a growl. "Though I must say I preferred it when you were lying next to me naked instead of me laying here alone naked."

_Fuck._

"Yes, well, I'm actually calling you about that."

I heard him cough. It was the kind of cough that you had when someone startled you and you couldn't quite catch your breath. Serves him right.

"I've thought about your offer and I've decided that it is something we should do."

"Are you kidding me right now Princess?"

I ignored him and continued, slipping back into my professional mode before I was a puddle on the floor. "We'll have to work out the details, naturally. There will be certain stipulations to our arrangement."

"Sookie, we're talking about us fucking here. This isn't an arrangement."

"That's where you're wrong. If we're going to do this, then there will have to be ground rules."

The other end of the phone was silent for a full minute. "Okay," he said finally. "Do I have a say in any of it?"

"Of course. You can't enter into a contract without agreement from both parties."

"You want me to sign a contract?" he asked incredulously.

"Of course not. Figuratively speaking. But we need to meet to go over the… Terms of Service," I said with a giggle. "And before the work week starts."

"What are you doing right now?" he asked.

"I'm glad to see that you're eager to start. But I am leaving with Lafayette here shortly."

"You called and woke me up at eight thirty in the morning to tell me you want to fuck me again, but you don't have time to talk about it right now?"

"Yes."

I heard him curse under his breath. "You're going to be the death of me Princess."

"Well, be that as it may. What's your schedule like tomorrow morning?"

"Tomorrow morning?" he screeched. "You expect me to wait until tomorrow morning? God dammit Sookie, all I have thought about doing since you left me last Saturday was getting you naked again. You practically killed me yesterday in that little skirt of yours, and now you're telling me you want to fuck me, but not until tomorrow morning?"

"Well…" I trailed off. "I'm dropping Lafayette off at the airport at six, so – "

"So you can be at my place at six-thirty. I'll text you directions."

"Alright," I said, knowing I couldn't stand to hear him talk about how much he wanted to have sex with me again over the phone without completely losing it.

"You're not shitting me, are you?"

"Why does someone say 'shitting me'? I've never understood it."

"Stackhouse," he growled.

"No. No, I am not 'shitting' you. I'll see you at six-thirty."

I hung up and sat there for a moment, doing my best to collect myself before heading out to see Lafayette again.

I had just set up a sex date. A sex date with Alcide Herveaux. I was so screwed.


	8. Chapter 8

Be Prepared.

~The Motto of the Boy Scouts of America

* * *

**Chapter 8**

**APOV**

The funny thing about cell phones was that there's no dial tone; no signal to let you know that the person you have been talking to has long since hung up. One could theoretically sit with a piece of plastic to their ear for thirty seconds and not realize that there was no one on the other end, and that's exactly what I did.

"Mother fucker," I swore when I realized that I'd been hung up on. I flung the phone across my bed and fell back against the pillows. She was right about one thing, we were going to have to set some ground rules, the first being a little common courtesy.

I was sure she was used to men falling at her feet, doing her bidding. Well, that wasn't going to happen with me, or at least I hoped it wouldn't. She needed a man that was willing to stand up to her, and even push back if it were necessary. She sure as hell wasn't going to get that with the likes of Bill Compton, and I was guessing most of the men in her life would be exactly like Bill Compton – nice enough, but as spineless as Spongebob Squarepants.

I tried to fall back asleep; sleeping in on Saturdays was my one gluttony. I didn't drink much, hadn't smoked in years, and was more Charlie Day than Charlie Sheen when it came to the number of women I'd slept with. Don't get me wrong, I had my fair share of women, but I was far from indiscriminate. In a town like Shreveport, with a family like mine, word got out pretty quickly if I took too many different girls home, so I fucked in moderation. It was as simple as that.

After thirty minutes of tossing and turning, sleep completely eluding me, I got out of bed and took a long, cold shower. I was going to have to do something to keep myself from thinking about Sookie coming over, or all the places I wanted to explore with her. There was nothing to do in my house, thanks to my cleaning lady Ginger, who came to clean every Thursday. I know, I know, having a cleaning lady would sound pretty ritzy, but it really wasn't. After spending my week cleaning up real messes made on jobs, the last thing I wanted to do was sweep the stray hair on my floor.

I kept my house pretty clean really. It was too big for me by far, but I'd designed it for the long haul and hadn't wanted to run out of room. I'd been living in it for three years now, and hadn't gone into the basement in God knows how long.

With nothing else to do, I headed outside for a run. I didn't like going to the gym. It felt pointless to run on a treadmill with nowhere to go, and I had no desire to play big dicks with the meat heads that prided themselves on how much they could bench press. I had taken up running a few years ago with my ex-girlfriend Maria. Well, really I'd taken it up to try and impress her, though I couldn't understand my interest in her now for the life of me. In fact, the only good thing that had come out of that relationship was running.

I ran to the park that was a few miles from my house, and only returned when I'd worked up a good sweat. I liked the feeling of total exhaustion I got from running, liked my body's response to a workout where I pushed myself to the limits. I didn't get to do it often enough these days, though there were plenty of other ways I planned to work up a sweat now that Sookie had agreed to let this thing run its course.

After another shower, I tried to distract myself with TV, and when that didn't work, I came up with a plan to make dinner for Sookie. She was going to be living out of a hotel for these next couple of months. I was sure she'd appreciate a good, home-cooked meal, and going to the grocery store and cooking would distract me while I waited for Sookie to get here.

The grocery store was crowded. Not surprising for a Saturday at eleven-thirty, but I didn't mind the crowd. The longer I was here, the less time I'd have to sit at home and wait for her. I was selective as I chose my ingredients, which was the first lesson my Mom had taught me when it came to cooking. Dad had been concerned that she was making me soft teaching me how to cook, that somehow learning to make jambalaya was going to turn me gay, but Mom had laughed it off, and it was a good thing. Even Dad came around to it after I had moved out and told him how much my cooking had helped me get into bed with the girls at college. It hadn't stopped helping in that department, and I planned to take advantage of that again tonight.

I pushed my cart absentmindedly through the grocery store as I thought about what was going to happen tonight. I'm not going to lie; I was a bit worried that it wouldn't be as good as I remembered it. So much of our relationship to date was based on annoyance. I think anyone can vouch that there's nothing quite like an argument to lead to good sex, and it had been good. What would it be like without that anger factor? Would we have the same chemistry if we were agreeable? I guess I'd have to wait and find out tonight.

I was halfway to the checkout when I realized I should probably get a box of condoms, or two. If this was going to be a recurring event, and I hoped it would, I'd have to be prepared. I threw three boxes in my cart (hey, you can never be too safe) and was headed back to the front when I heard an unmistakable voice call my name out.

I turned around to see my sister Janice standing there, her own cart overloaded with boxed and frozen food for Dell and herself. Janice had never been much for cooking, which was probably the reason Mom had latched onto my interest. Janice was a great wife, and an even better mother, but her first priority wasn't making a meal. With her job at the salon, and the demands of my nephew, something had to get cut out, and for her it was cooking.

"My, my, what are you doing up and about? Shouldn't you be in bed still?" she asked, pulling her cart alongside mine.

"Funny Janice," I replied, leaning my forearms on the plastic handle of the cart. "Good nutrition you've got going there." I nodded towards the cart. "I heard that Pringles are a great source of calcium."

"Shut up Alc. Not all of us have the time, or inclination to cook for ourselves." She let out a wistful sigh. "I remember the single life."

"You're the one that decided to get married Jan."

"Doesn't mean I can't live vicariously through you older brother," she taunted. "Though, you're so flipping boring lately that it's not worth even trying."

I shrugged. "Sorry I can't be more entertaining for you."

"Work on it Alc. I'm dying here." She looked down the empty aisle and back at me. "What are you shopping for anyway? God knows you don't have a date to cook for. It's been what, three months since you had sex?"

A week. And even that spell was going to end shortly if I had any say in it. I didn't want to tell Janice about Sookie. It might jinx it, and it wasn't like Sookie was anything anyway. Or at least not something I'd be introducing to my sister.

I shrugged. "Something like that."

"I'd die, really I would. Oh!" she exclaimed, her eyes on the contents of my cart. "Are you making chicken parmesan?"

"Yeah," I said with a shrug.

"Want to have company? I'm sure I could convince Dell to go over to your house for a home cooked meal. You know how he loves your cooking." She took a step forward and began rifling through my cart as she blathered on about how they'd appreciate a home cooked meal. "Really Alc, do you want Tommy to grow up eating cheetos and tater tots? He needs to get his vitamins and… oh shit!" she exclaimed, looking up suddenly with a knowing smile on her face. I looked down at her hands and groaned.

"You _are _planning on company, aren't you?" she asked, waving the box of Trojans in the air. "Three boxes? Wow. That's impressive, even for me. Who is she? Where did you meet her?"

"It's none of your business," I said, snatching the boxes out of her hand. "And who said they were for me? Maybe I'm picking them up for someone else."

"No one buys someone else condoms!" she said with a laugh. "Well, other than when I buy them for you, but that's just 'cause I'm trying to get you laid big brother." She batted her eyelashes innocently. "Now come on, who is she?"

I groaned and shut my eyes. "You don't know her."

"Oh… mystery lady!" She sounded far too excited for her own good. "When do I get to meet her?"

"You don't."

"Oh!" she said. "Oh! She's one of _those._"

"What do you mean by that?"

"She's not someone you want to introduce to the family. Just a little bit of fluff on the side. I get it. Is she tattooed? Unemployed? A stripper?"

"She's none of those things." At least, I didn't think she was tattooed, but it had been dark and I hadn't exactly been looking, as much as tasting and feeling.

"Then why are you hiding her?"

"I'm not hiding her," I said, pushing my cart forward slowly. "Maybe I'm hiding you."

Janice's laughter followed behind me, though she said nothing. We stood in compatible silence as I checked out, with only a slight guffaw when the female clerk looked at me appreciatively when she was ringing up the condoms.

"Let me know when you're ready to show her off Alc," Janice said when the clerk handed me my receipt. "I'd like to meet the girl who inspires _three _boxes of condoms."

***

I looked outside my window for the tenth time in two minutes. She was late.

Maybe she wasn't coming. Maybe this was some elaborate scheme to get me twisted in all kinds of knots so that she could laugh from her pristine tower at the handyman. Fuck. I was going crazy, that's all there was to it.

I went back into the kitchen to check the marinara sauce. It was fine. Just as it had been the five times I'd checked it before. Maybe Janice and Dell would need to come over after all.

I was in the middle of washing dishes when I heard the doorbell ring, and ran (yes, ran) to the front door.

_Calm down Herveaux_, I told myself. _She's just a girl. A girl you want to fuck, sure, but still just a girl._

I took one deep breath and opened the door to reveal the back of Sookie's blonde head as she watched two kids ride by in their bicycles.

"You're late," I said. Her spine stiffened and she turned around to face me, the hard look in her eyes soon replaced by laughter.

"My, how domestic," she said with a smirk and pointed at my hands.

_Fuck._ I hadn't taken off the gloves I'd worn to wash dishes.

I pulled them off in haste and propped the door open. "Would you like to come inside, or do you want to sit here and watch the kids a little bit longer?"

She shrugged and walked past me, her shoulder brushing against the front of my shirt as she did. I was going to have to start thinking of something else if I planned on staying sane around this one. One look, one almost touch, and I was ready to throw her down on the living room floor and skip dinner all together.

Mustering an image of Jabba the Hut, I kicked the door shut behind me and followed her inside. She looked put together, as always, but I had to wonder if the woman owned a pair of jeans, or even a pair of shoes that weren't made to kill a man. Even on Saturday, and a day that I knew she had gone shopping, she was wearing a pink skirt with an efficient little white blouse and those sky high heels she preferred.

When she heard the door shut, she spun around and smiled at me. "Nice place. I wouldn't have expected it of you."

"What were you expecting?" I asked, taking a step closer to her.

"I don't know. You're a bachelor. I figured you'd have more of a man cave than a family house, unless there's something you're not telling me?" she asked with a smirk. "Do you have a wife hidden away in the attic somewhere?"

"The basement actually," I said nonchalantly and brushed past her as I headed towards the kitchen. These gloves needed to be put down if I was going to do any number of the things that were running through my mind.

I heard her heels click on the hardwood floor behind me as she followed me inside the kitchen.

"Smells good," she said, leaning against the counter. "Did your wife make dinner for us?"

"Sure did. She hopes you like chicken parmesan." I tossed the gloves into the sink and reached in to drain the water. Sookie watched as I wiped my wet hand on the front of my jeans, her eyes glazing over for a moment. "Do you?"

"Do I what?" she asked, snapping out of the trance and pulling her eyes from the front of my jeans.

"Like chicken parmesan?"

"Oh… yeah. I do. It's one of my favorites."

"Good. She'll be pleased." I walked around the counter until I was standing mere inches away from her, her scent overpowering the aroma coming from the stove. "I've heard I make a mean chicken parmesan. Seasoned perfectly."

"Did your wife tell you that?" she asked, looking for all the world like a woman who was trying to keep her cool. Good.

"My ex girlfriend actually," I said with a shrug. "She said it's what got me in her pants."

"Hmmm, well I'm not wearing any pants."

"I noticed." I reached out and ran my knuckles down her cheek, along her neck and finally down the length of her bare arm. "Tell me…"

"What?" she asked breathlessly.

"Do you even own a pair of pants Princess?"

"What? I mean, yes. Of course I do."

"Do you have something against them?"

"No, of course not." She was holding onto her composure by a string.

"Cause if you did, I'd be more than happy to take my jeans off. To make you comfortable, of course."

Ah ha, that did it. She let out a shuddered breath and took a step away from me. "That won't be necessary."

"Pity," I responded, closing the gap again. "I was looking forward to it."

"Yes, well," she said, reaching down to smooth her skirt over her thighs. I'd noticed she did that when she was nervous, and I was happy to be the cause of her tension. "There's always time for that later."

Excellent. She was ready to play.

"What's it going to take to get you to do that sooner, rather than later?"

"Patience, Alcide. Patience," she said with a smirk and stepped out of my grip. "I believe we have some terms to go over, before we can get to remove any clothing."

"Ah yes, your famous terms of service," I said with a laugh as I pulled out a stool at the counter and indicated that she should do the same. "Care to enlighten me?"

She sat on the very edge of the stool, her back ramrod straight as she crossed her legs at the ankle and turned to face me. "As we discussed earlier, I believe that your offer is amenable."

"Is that so?"

"Yes," she said with a nod. "It is something that can be beneficial to both of us, and provide an… erm, service if you will, that we both require."

"And that service would be sex?" I asked, knowing full well what she meant. I had to admit, as weird as this conversation was turning out to be, there was something sexy about it. It made me want to muss her up, make her forget about all of this and not know anything to say other than my name, over and over again.

"Yes," she said and rolled her eyes. "As I was saying. Provided we can work out some of the kinks –"

"Are you saying you want it to be kinky?"

She shot me a stern look. "Do you want to get this worked out, or not?" she asked. "I can leave right now if you think this is a joke."

"No," I said, reaching out to stroke her arm. "No. It's not a joke."

"Good," she said with a formal nod. "We have to set some ground rules. If this is going to work – and I do so hope it will work – we need to be on the same page."

She looked at me expectantly. Not knowing what she wanted from me, I cautiously nodded. "Agreed."

"Good." She reached into her handbag she set on the counter and pulled out a small notepad. "I made some notes, I hope you don't mind?"

She'd taken notes. How quaint. "Of course not."

It was clear that Sookie Stackhouse had some power issues, both inside and outside of the bedroom. I couldn't understand how someone could live like that, how she could stand to have every detail of her life mapped out. I was doing good if I knew what I'd done yesterday, much less what I was going to do tomorrow. I had no organizational system, no way of keeping track of anything that wasn't in my head.

"First things first, we will need to agree that this is a beneficial arrangement, and _will not _ever turn into a relationship. If, at any point, either of us develops feelings for the other, it must stop immediately." I nodded. "We cannot socialize with each other outside of this arrangement, and we absolutely cannot do anything more at the project site. That was unprofessional and discourteous to Bill." Is that what she thought of it? It's not that I didn't agree – there was too much risk continuing at the Compton house, but that didn't mean I was okay with her real reason behind it. "The arrangement is only outside of work hours and it absolutely cannot impair our working relationship." I nodded again. This was pretty basic. "And no one related to the Compton project can know of it."

I could agree with that, even if I doubted her intent was that Hoyt Fortenberry didn't find out, so much as Bill himself. Either way, if it meant six weeks of sex with Sookie Stackhouse, I wasn't going to complain.

"We can arrange to have our meetings either at your house, or at my hotel. We can work out an itinerary every Saturday morning of our meetings for the upcoming week. That will give us sufficient time to review our schedules."

"Princess, sex isn't quite that clinical," I said with a laugh. If she thought she'd be able to schedule her orgasms, she had another thing coming to her. "There's no saying when the mood will hit."

"Yes, well we will need to make provisions for that. I was thinking we would be able to call each other no more than once a week for an unscheduled meeting."

I couldn't help but laugh out loud at that. She was a real piece of work. I could imagine what her previous relationships had been like – sex at precisely nine pm for exactly seven-point-five minutes from start to finish, and no deviation.

"Pre-scheduled booty calls then?" She nodded. "Princess, when was the last time you had sex? I mean real, good, raw sex?"

"You should know." Her chin jutted out defiantly. "Last Friday."

"That doesn't count." I stood up and walked to the other side of the counter, needing the distance to clear my head. "Though thank you. What I mean is, when was the last time you were with someone you couldn't keep your hands off of? Where the very sight of them made you feel like your bones were melting, and you'd do anything just for the chance to touch them again?"

"That's ridiculous."

"It's not," I said with a shrug. "We're good together, and you know it. If our first round was as good as it was, it's only going to get better. And I'm a glutton. When I find something I like, I can't get enough of it, so I do it over and over again." She appeared to have stopped breathing for a moment, and finally took in a deep breath before meeting my eyes. "I'm not saying we need to throw all caution to the wind, but you can't plan everything out Princess. There will be days when you look at me and all I'll be able to think about is having your legs wrapped around my waist. I'm not going to be held to a schedule when I want to fuck you."

She scoffed. "That's so crass."

"Be that as it may, that's the truth. I'm all for setting parameters. Sexual relations are a personal thing. It's nobody's business who I'm sleeping with, or who is sleeping with me. We can keep it as private as you want, but I'm not the guy that's going to show up at your hotel at 9:30 on Tuesday with my dick in my hand because that was the only time you could pencil me in." The look of shock on her face would've been cute, if it didn't piss me off so much. "I'm willing to give a little, but you've got to be willing to give back."

She leaned back in the stool, resting against the back for the first time of the night as she thought my words over. After a moment, she asked, "What do you want?"

"I want you to loosen up a bit. Learn to go with the flow, learn to enjoy life."

"I enjoy life!" she said defiantly.

"You enjoy _parts _of life Princess. But no one can be happy if they're worried about sticking to a plan all the time. Life throws speed bumps in, you've got to know how to handle them. Enjoy them even. I think we can agree that we're as opposite as you can get in this world. I could use a little more order in my life, and you could use a hell of a lot less structure. Be with me. Teach me some of that crazy organizational shit, and let me teach you how to loosen up."

She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth as she thought it over, nodding eventually. "Fine. I can work on that."

She reached out and grabbed her pen, scribbling a note in a flurry. "Step one," I said, reaching out and taking the pen from her hand. "Stop taking notes." I pulled the notepad out from her hand and walked over to the refrigerator, setting it out of reach.

"Alcide, give it back," she said, looking suddenly lost.

"No," I said definitively, walking back and stopping when I was close enough to touch her. "That's lesson number one in the 'Betterment of Sookie Stackhouse.' You have to spend the night without your notepad and see where the night takes you." Her eyes darted uncertainly towards the refrigerator, and I let out a hearty laugh. "Don't worry, I'll give it back to you when you're ready to leave. Hell, I'd throw it away if I didn't think you'd murder me."

"I would murder you too!" she exclaimed, then took a deep breath. "Fine. That's fine. I can live for a few hours without my notepad."

"Good. Now take your shoes off."

"What?"

"Take those shoes off." When she looked at me like I was a slow four year old, I continued. "Princess, as much as I like looking at your legs when you're wearing those things, there's no way you can relax with them on." I kicked my work boots off and wiggled my sock clad feet in her direction. "Look, I took mine off."

She stared at me for a minute before standing up. "Why am I the only one that has to give in tonight?"

I shrugged. "If you want to teach me something tonight you can. Or, we can make this night about you." I bent down until my mouth was nearly on her ear and lowered my voice to nothing more than a scratchy growl. "I think I'd enjoy making this all about you tonight."

Her breath came out in ragged gasps as I blew into her ear. "Okay," she whispered and took a step back. Never breaking eye contact, she stepped out of her shoes one at a time, and carefully placed them next to the counter. "What now?"

"Now," I said, taking a step back despite my primary desire to pick her up and carry her to my bed. "Now, we eat dinner."

* * *

**AN**: Yay! Alcide is back! Hope you liked the turn of events in this chapter. Should make for an interesting road ahead!


	9. Chapter 9

Say the point of sex isn't recreation or procreation or any of that stuff. Say it's concentration. Say it's supposed to focus your attention on the person you're sleeping with, like biological highlighter. Otherwise, there's just too many people in the world.

~The Opposite of Sex

**Chapter 9**

**SPOV**

"Dinner?" I asked, hearing the frustration in my voice. "You look at me like that and tell me you want to eat dinner?"

He shrugged and walked back to the other side of the island. "I didn't spend all day making chicken parmesan to throw it in the garbage. Besides," he looked up at me, his green eyes burning my skin with their heat, "there's something to be said for anticipation. Just think how it would have been if we had sex the first time we wanted to."

"We did," I insisted.

"Hardly Princess," he said with a smirk. "I wanted to throw you against the wall and screw you silly the minute you rounded the corner in those ridiculous heels of yours, no matter how Bill Compton was looking at you."

"Oh," I said, for once at a loss for words. "Well…" If I were being honest with myself, I would admit that I'd thought about it then too. I had never, ever, thought I would act on it though. Not with Alcide Herveaux.

"How do you like it?" he asked.

"What?"

"How do you like it?" he repeated. When I didn't answer, he continued, "your chicken." He raised a plate in his hand. "Do you want the sauce on it, or on the side?"

How could he go from talking about throwing me up against a wall to preparing my chicken? I was usually pretty quick on the uptake, but tonight I felt like he was whipping me around at lightspeed and I had no chance of keeping up.

"Um, on the side," I answered.

_Pull it together! _I reprimanded myself. It wouldn't do acting like a simpering fool tonight. Not when there was so much to go over.

"Sit down," he ordered, pointing to the stool at the large granite island.

"We're eating here?" I asked. I'd seen a large dining room table on the way in, and had assumed he would want to pull out all the stops.

"Yeah," he replied, without looking up from the task at hand. I watched in admiration as he plated our meal like a pro. He could cook, or, well he could at least make food look pretty. I guessed I shouldn't pass a judgment on his ability until I tasted it. But either way, he had an advantage over me. The last time I'd cooked was in Home Economics class in eleventh grade, and that had been a disaster.

"I thought it would be more intimate, more casual if we eat in here," he leaned across the counter and placed the perfect dish in front of me. "I suppose we could go into the dining room if you'd like."

"No! No, this is great." I managed to tear my gaze away from him to admire the room around him. He'd combined modern sensibility with an old world charm in his kitchen. Pots hung by hooks above the granite island, and for once I knew that it wasn't just for decoration. The aesthetics of the kitchen also brought a functionality – the two sinks, the gas range, these were put in place by a man who planned to use them. "Did you design the kitchen?" I asked, reaching out to take the glass of wine he offered. My fingers lightly brushed against his, and it took every ounce of willpower I had not to show my reaction.

"I did," he said with a sweep of his hand. "It's really the reason I built the place. I found a few houses I liked, but none had the kitchen I wanted…so I figured, why not make it exactly what I want?" He picked up his own plate and walked around the island, sitting down at the stool to my right. His arm brushed against mine as he reached for his wine glass, and I felt my body stiffen. "You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, of course." I hurriedly cut a piece of the chicken and shoved it in my mouth. No one could say I was rude if I didn't talk while my mouth was full, right? As soon as the fork passed my lips, I knew I was a goner. I let out a groan of satisfaction as the flavors exploded in my mouth. I closed my eyes to savor the moment, and found myself an object of interest when I reopened them. "What?" I asked, patting the side of my mouth.

"Nothing," he replied, though the gruffness of his tone implied that there was something.

"What?" I repeated.

"It's just…how can you manage to be so fucking sexy all the time Princess?" I felt the urge to blush, and squashed it down. "You're sexy when you're eating, you're sexy when you're yelling at me, not to mention how incredibly fucking sexy I know you are going to be when I've got you naked and under me."

Okay, so there was no way to squash down that blush.

"Tell me something, Sookie," he said, stopping to take a sip of his wine. "Why did you agree to continue our…" he trailed off.

"Fucking?" I asked with a smirk. What was the point in mincing words?

"Erm, yes I suppose could call it that," he said with a nod.

"I find you attractive," I started. He smirked. Of course he did. "Oh come on. You know you are good looking, your body is incredible, and you know exactly what to do to get me off. After I gave it some consideration, I decided that six weeks of no-strings hot sex wasn't such a bad idea."

"So, you're saying you only like me for my body?" he teased.

"I never said I liked you at all," I said with a shrug. "I like what you do to me, but that doesn't mean I like you. Oh, don't give me that wounded look!" I commanded. "I know I'm not at the top of your favorites list either."

"Don't be so sure of that," he leered, his eyes darting down to my cleavage.

"Don't confuse lust with liking. They're vastly different."

"I'm not stupid Sookie," he said defensively. "I know the difference between lust and like. And while the lust is definitely the power player between us, it doesn't mean I don't like you. Maybe it'd be better, or at least easier, if I didn't like you at all."

"I'm not very easy to like."

"No, you're not. But I like a good challenge."

"And I'm a challenge am I?"

He twirled his fork around his pasta before looking up at me. "You, Princess, are the fucking Mount Everest of challenges. But I climbed you once, and I know I can climb you again."

When we finished eating, I stood up hurriedly and walked over to the sink, still a little off kilter by his earlier confession.

"I'll get it," he insisted, when I reached for the bottle of liquid dishwashing soap.

"No, I insist," I said, turning the water on to begin filling up the sink. "The chef never has to clean."

"It's my house," he countered, "and you're my guest."

"No!" I said, continuing the process as I put my dish in the soapy water. "I like cleaning, really I do."

"That doesn't surprise me," he said with a shrug. "But there is this little invention called the dishwasher. You may not have heard of it."

"Very funny, Herveaux," I said and rolled my eyes.

He came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me flush against him. "I wouldn't want to get your pretty little hands dirty, Princess," he whispered in my ear, his hot breath sending shivers down my spine. "At least not like this. Though I can think of plenty of other ways I wouldn't mind getting you dirty."

I felt my knees begin to buckle at his suggestion and mentally slapped myself. "There's plenty of time for that after I do the dishes," I said shakily.

"Mmm, if you say so." He began to nibble on my neck, the stubble of his beard scratching my exposed skin. "But I don't know how patient I can be anymore."

I laughed and turned my head, offering him a broader expanse of my neck. "You're the one that said you liked anticipation."

"Did I?" he groaned. "Fuck anticipation."

"Uh-uh," I said, shaking my head and pushing out of his arms. "You were right. The anticipation is just part of the foreplay. And I like a good game, don't you?"

"Depends on the prize," he said, leaning back against the counter.

"Oh, I think you know what the prize is," I said with a smirk. "But I'm happy to give you a preview, if you so desire."

"I so desire," he said, his green eyes hooded with desire.

"Okay then," I said, and reached down to the hem of my shirt. "Are you sure?" He nodded. I slowly raised the hem of my shirt, exposing the skin underneath inch by inch until I pulled it fully over my head. "Could you put this somewhere?" I asked, dangling it out towards him. "I'd hate to get it messy."

He swallowed visibly and grabbed it from me, his eyes devouring my half-naked form. "I'll uh… be right back," he said, quickly spinning on his heel and leaving the kitchen. I smiled to myself in satisfaction and returned to the dishes. I hadn't been too keen on the thought of waiting when I first got here, but now it was a game, and I always won when I played.

He returned a second later, looking much more collected, and a lot less dressed. "I didn't want to feel left out," he said with a smirk as he leaned against the door frame. "You don't mind, do you?"

"No," I said, in a voice that I hardly recognized as my own. No matter how many times I'd seen him without a shirt, I was still at a loss for words. Knowing that I would be enjoying that up close and personal soon enough made it even better. "The more the merrier."

I turned my attention back to the dishes in front of me and slowly and methodically washed each and every one. I looked up occasionally to find Alcide frozen in place, watching me with an amused smile.

"What?" I asked finally.

"I've always wondered what it'd be like to have a sexy, naked woman wash my dishes. Or vacuum. Want to vacuum for me later?"

"I'm not naked," I said with a smirk, looking down at the pink skirt that hung on my hips and then back up at him.

"We can fix that," he said, pushing off the wall and advancing towards me like a predator. When he was behind me, he placed his hands on my waist and leaned in to my ear. "Why, I bet with one little flick of the wrist, this little skirt of yours would be all but forgotten." The fragile zipper was no match for his strong worker's fingers, and the fabric soon pooled at my feet. "See?"

"Uh huh," I responded.

"Are you done yet?"

I looked down at the sink in front of me and shook my head. "No, there's a couple more –"

"You're done," he commanded, spinning me around, the soapy water splashing out of the sink as my hands were pulled out. He stopped me when I was facing him, my back to the sink and reached around me to grab a dish towel. He took my wet hands in his and gently dried them off, examining each one carefully before placing them behind his back. "Yes, I could definitely get used to this."

He leaned down and captured my mouth, crushing me against him as his hands roamed across my back. I groaned against his mouth as he lifted me off the floor and carried me across the room; his lips never leaving mine. I didn't know where he was going, and frankly couldn't be bothered to care. The chase was over. It was time for the spoils to go to the victor, only in this case we would both be victorious.

He walked through the main living room and down a long hallway for what seemed like forever, stopping occasionally to lean against a wall as he shifted me for better access. He pushed a large door open with his foot and set me down on the other side of the doorway of what could only be his bedroom.

The room was masculine. Incredibly so. There were no feminine touches, no unnecessary pillows. It was all hard lines and dark fabrics. A large wrought iron sculpture was mounted on the wall over his bed, abstract figures twisting and turning, blending into one another. There was something raw and sexual about it, just like its owner.

I cocked my eyebrow and turned back to face him. "Your bedroom, eh?"

"Yeah."

"I wouldn't have thought you would want to have sex with me here."

"Why not?" he asked, grabbing my hand and pulling me against him. "It's a good place to start. The place I've thought about you the most."

"You've thought about me in your bedroom?" I asked.

"I've done more than think about you in here," he said, reaching out and toyed with the straps of my bra. "But less talk." His fingers trailed down to the lace edge of the cups, sweeping underneath. "Shame to let something so pretty go to waste, but I think I'd like this better on the floor."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, really." His hands circled around, releasing the clasp with one flick. He tugged the straps off my arms roughly and threw the bra over his shoulder. "Much better," he said, his eyes devouring my naked breasts. "Now for these," he said, hooking his fingers under the waistband of my underwear.

"No no no," I said, taking a step away from him. "Fair is fair. Your turn." I nodded towards his pants. He looked down and then back up at me.

"If fair is fair, then I'd say I need a little help here," he challenged.

"I was hoping you'd say that." I took a step forward. "But you've got to keep your hands to yourself."

He put his hands up in mock defense, his green eyes full of challenge. I walked towards him, eliciting a surprised chuckle when I circled around him and wrapped my arms around his waist, my bare breasts pressing against his back. His breathing quickened, but he kept his arms in the air as I grabbed the waistband of his jeans. I slowly released each button and pushing the denim down his hips. "Like that?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said raggedly. "That'll do." He kicked out of his jeans and spun around. "Now, where were we?"

His hands were everywhere, kneading, clasping and pinching me exactly where I wanted it. My breath came out in gasps, and I strung together incoherent words as his lips traveled down my neck and chest. I clasped at his hair as his mouth devoured my chest, his tongue doing things I hadn't thought possible. I nearly fell over when he dropped to his knees before me and pressed his lips against my stomach; I probably would have if his arms weren't holding me upright.

"Look at me," he commanded, and I did. His eyes met mine in challenge as one hand bunched the fabric of my underwear and tugged it down roughly over my hips and thighs. "Much better," he said, and returned his lips to my abdomen. I don't know how long we stayed there, me standing and him on his knees in the middle of his bedroom, the only sound the suction of his lips against my skin. "More," he commanded, swooping me off my feet and throwing me on the edge of his bed.

His lips returned to my skin, traveling farther south until they were exactly where I wanted them to be. I writhed beneath him, unable to think, much less talk. I was only able to feel. He brought me to the edge and pushed me over. My body arched, and I called out his name once, then twice before falling apart beneath him.

I had no time to recover before he was assaulting my senses again, sliding up my body until his mouth met my own. I pushed desperately at the remaining fabric that covered his body, sliding it down his hips until there were no barriers between us. We rolled together as one, touching, grasping as we moved. He left me briefly, returning with a foil wrapper in hand and picking up where he had left off. He chanted my name, and when we joined, he let out a grunt of satisfaction.

Our bodies moved in sync, pushing each other higher and higher until I lost all control and he followed closely thereafter. We lay in a heap of tangled limbs, neither of us able to speak immediately. After a minute of silence, he moved to his side and pushed the hair out of my face, tucking it behind my ear.

"That was well worth the wait," he said, leaning down and placing a kiss on my nose.

"You could say that again." I propped myself up on my elbow, my hair cascading behind me across his dark sheets. "That was amazing." It had been. I hadn't felt like that since, well, since last week. But it had been a long time before that.

"I think you rather like me."

"I don't know that I'd go as far as that," I said with a smirk. "But you have your talents."

"You like me," he repeated. "You can't deny it."

"I don't," I insisted. I did. I totally did.

"You do," he said with a smirk. "You just wish you didn't."

I turned onto my back and stared up at the ceiling. "I don't hate you."

"I know you don't."

"But I don't like you either."

"Okay, I'm not going to argue with you Princess." He reached out and pulled me against him, turning to spoon me and nuzzle his chin into my neck. "Not when I've got you like this. We've got plenty of time to argue when you've got your clothes on and there are other people around. But not when I've got you naked and in my bed."

"I should go," I said.

"Don't be ridiculous," he said. "Stay."

"I don't sleep with men I'm not dating."

"You already slept with me Princess."

"That's not what I mean. I don't spend the night. I leave."

"Either way. You slept with me at Belle Rive."

"We were rained in. The roads were closed. That's different."

"Stay," he repeated, his voice heavy with sleep. "I want you to. I want to wake up with you next to me."

"I can't." I couldn't. It didn't matter how much I may have wanted to. It was against my rules. "I've got to go; I've got too much to do in the morning."

"How can you even think of anything but me right now?" he asked with a lazy smile. "After a night like that, all I can think of is you."

"I can't stay."

"You can," he said, pulling me tighter against him. "I'm not done with you. Not by a long shot." His fingers danced lazy circles across my stomach as he buried his face into my hair. "Stay."

My internal note-taker was screaming at me to leave. If I didn't leave, who knows what would happen. It wasn't part of the arrangement, and I couldn't break the arrangement on the first night, could I? No. No, I had to go.

But I couldn't. Not when he was holding me like he was. Not when my bones felt like liquid, and the normally elusive sandman was tugging at me from every angle. One night wouldn't hurt anything, would it?

"Just tonight," I said, barely above a whisper. "One night."

* * *

**AN:** There you go. Even more Alcide for your reading pleasure! Hope you enjoyed it, and thanks as always to **sunkisz** for being a superstar beta!


	10. Chapter 10

He who has the gold makes the rules

~Anonymous

**Chapter 10 **

**APOV**

"Get back here," I mumbled, grabbing at her arm while my face stayed buried in my pillow.

"Let go," she commanded, tugging at my grasp. "I'm serious. Let go."

I groaned and rolled to my side, refusing to do her biding. "Five minutes longer," I pleaded.

"I've been here all weekend," she said with an exasperated sigh. "I hadn't planned on staying all day yesterday, and definitely hadn't planned on spending the night last night." I smiled as I recalled exactly how we'd passed the time. "I need to leave now if I'm going to make it out to Belle Rive by eight."

I looked over her shoulder at the clock, and then back at her. "Princess, it's 5:30. We've got two and a half hours. It only takes forty minutes to get out there."

She tugged at my grip again. "I've got to go back to my hotel. I've got to take a shower."

"You can take one here," I said, sitting up. "We can conserve water, save the planet, take one together."

"Yeah, because that worked out so well for me yesterday, didn't it?" she said, her voice laden with sarcasm.

"If your screams were any indication, then I'd say yeah, it did."

"That's not what I mean, and you know it," she said, pulling her hand free and scooting off the edge of the bed. I watched in admiration as she fumbled around in the darkness looking for the clothes we'd discarded earlier. The woman knew how to wear clothes, but she knew better how to not wear them.

I knew I was ruffling her feathers, but it was too much fun to do anything else. She had every intention of returning to her hotel yesterday morning, and let's just say that I managed to find a way to distract her when I joined her in the shower. Whatever we had, it was too new, too precarious to let her walk out after the night we had. I didn't want her getting back to her hotel and having a whole day to second guess herself. I needed to stay on top her. Literally and figuratively.

It had been easy enough to convince her to stay the day, but harder to get her to spend the night. I had to whip out some ninja shit for that, and I was sure I would be sore for days because of it. But it was worth it. Now we had the work week ahead of us, and after what we did last night, I wasn't sure how I was going to be able to maintain a professional distance.

She pulled on her shirt and skirt when she found them, disregarding the bra and panties that were nowhere to be found – and there was a reason she couldn't find them. "Any idea where my bra is?" she asked.

"No," I said with a grin. I knew where it was, I just didn't feel particularly inclined to tell her. Not when she looked as good as she did without it.

"Convenient," she said with a smirk. "Do let me know if you find it."

"Of course. I can bring it to work if you'd like."

"Now that would be crossing the line of professionalism, don't you think?"

"Princess, just looking at you is going to cross the line of professionalism. Especially after that little trick you showed me last night." And my, what a trick that was. If I was lucky, she'd show it to me again real soon.

She let out an exasperated sigh. "I thought we went over this. If you can't behave yourself while we're on the clock, then this," she waved her hand between us, "can't continue."

I sat up in the bed and swung my legs to the side, allowing the sheet to fall behind me as I stood up and walked towards her. "I can behave myself Princess," I said, stopping in front of her. "But I'm not so sure you're going to be able to control yourself around me."`

She crossed her arms over her chest, offering a better view of the cleavage underneath, and rolled her eyes. "I'm the Queen of Restraint," she said.

"You sure about that?"

"Quite," she said with a nod.

"Even if I get up real close," I took a step forward until our bodies nearly touched, "like this?"

I heard her breath catch and smiled. "Or what if I accidentally touch you," I reached out and caressed the side of her face, trailing my hand down to the open neck of her shirt until I reached the bottom of the V. "Like this?"

"Alcide," she said, attempting to control her voice. "We both know there is no need to touch me like that at work."

"Oh, there's a need alright," I said, pulling her against me and showing her just how needy I was.

"Stop twisting my words," she commanded, stepping out of my grasp. "I'm serious Alcide. As much fun as this is, I will stop the minute you cross the line at Belle Rive."

I nodded in understanding. I knew it wouldn't be long before she broke down. There was no way we'd be able to work in close quarters without remembering exactly how well we worked together. I could send the guys off early one day; we could reacquaint ourselves with every surface in Bill Compton's house. It'd be a giant fuck you to Sookie's sentiments about the man if I could get her naked and underneath me again at his house.

"I've got to go," she said again, walking backwards out of my bedroom. She didn't turn around as I followed her, and kept an eye on me the entire way into the kitchen, where she sat down and buckled the straps of her shoes around her ankles. She looked up at me cautiously and shook her head.

"What?" I asked.

"You."

"What about me?"

"You're standing there naked as the day you were born, looking like the cat that ate the canary."

"Well, if you're the canary, I'd reckon I would be the cat Princess."

She stood up and shook her head. "Put some clothes on. Go back to bed. Hell, I don't care," she said, walking over to the refrigerator and reaching up to grab her precious notebook. "Just see that you make it in on time. I'd hate to have to get after you for being late."

"You can get after me any time you'd like," I said, walking up behind her and pulling her into my embrace. "One more kiss for the road?"

She looked at me warily. "Just a kiss," she finally said with a nod.

"Mmm hmmm," I responded, lowering my lips to hers. I used everything I had in me to show her exactly what she was going to be missing by instilling her rules. "You drive safe now," I said, pulling away from her entirely. She had a dazed look on her face as she righted herself.

She didn't say another word as she walked out the front door and hopped into her car. Yes, I definitely gave her something to think about.

Three days later and I was up to my knees in shit. Literally.

"What in the hell happened?" I yelled, looking up at the crew standing two feet away from me.

"I think we put too much water in when we were working with the wet saw."

"You think?" I asked, turning my head to avoid the overpowering stench that surrounded my feet. The septic tank hadn't been pumped in God knows how long. We had planned to pump it closer to the end of the project, hoping to avoid the problems that we ran into anyway. "I fucking told you not to put too much water into the system."

"Sorry man," Hoyt said sheepishly. "I'm not used to working with that stuff. If Rene was here-"

"Well he isn't," I interrupted. "Clean this up. Now."

I looked up into the kitchen window and saw Sookie's smirking face looking out at me.

_Mother fucker._

I trudged through to the puddle of sludge and made my way towards the main house, kicking out of the knee-high rain boots I'd donned before going to look at the problem. With all the men working on the septic tank, I had a moment to myself. I heard the creek of the screen door and would've known who it was even without the click of the heels on the veranda.

"Little bit of a problem there?" Sookie's voice lilted, full of laughter.

"You could say that," I mumbled, not looking up at her.

"You looked kind of cute out there in your boots," she said, sitting down on the stoop next to me.

"I was standing in a puddle of shit Sookie."

She shrugged and leaned towards me. "I didn't say you smelled good. I said you looked cute."

"Cute?"

"Sexy?" she asked with a smirk. She leaned in further. To the casual observer she looked as if she were going over the project, but we both knew that was the farthest thing from her mind. She'd slipped a little here and there, but then again, so had I. It was difficult working in such close proximity to one another, knowing what we could do together. We'd both managed to maintain the façade well. At least, for now. "What are you doing tonight?" she asked.

"I was supposed to go over to my sister's for dinner."

"Cancel it," she instructed. "I have something I want to show you."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. My hotel room. 7:30. Don't be late."

I looked up and noticed that a few of the men were watching us with interest, something that didn't pass by Sookie either. "For God's sake," she said, her voice rising as she stood up. "You smell like shit. Go inside and change your pants. But I swear if you get anything on the floor, it'll be your ass that pays for it." She turned on one delicate heel and made her way inside.

"What a bitch," Malcolm said, walking towards me.

"Yeah," Victor chimed in. "I don't know how in the hell you put up with the way she treats you."

I had a few ideas, but none of which I could share.

"It's part of the job," I said, standing up and dusting off my hands. "I get paid to put up with it."

"Better you than me man," Victor said, taking the seat I'd vacated. "I think I would've snapped already, no matter how well she fills out those little dresses of hers."

"You'd do well to watch your mouth Victor," I practically snarled. The thought of Victor looking at her like that made my skin crawl.

"What?" he asked with an innocent shrug. "She may be a bitch, but that doesn't mean I'm blind to her other attributes."

"She's your boss."

"You're my boss," he countered. "She's just someone Boring Bill Compton brought in to prance about. Why I bet he's just trying to fu-"

"Victor!" I interrupted. "You do not talk about her like that." I didn't want to think about Bill Compton or his motives where Sookie was involved. He'd be an idiot to pass her by, but then again, I'd never thought Bill Compton to be anything more than an idiot. Truth be told, it wasn't his intentions I was concerned about as much as hers. She'd as much as told me what she wanted where he was involved.

"What's your problem?" Malcolm interjected. "What got your panties in a twist?"

"Nothing has 'my panties in a twist' Malcolm. But I expect you to treat Miss Stackhouse with a little respect while you're on the job. The same respect you gave to Russell on the last job."

"Geez, I was just saying-"

"I don't care what you were saying. And last I checked, that fucking tank wasn't going to pump itself." I inclined my head towards the puddle where Hoyt and the other crew members were working. "Get the fuck to work."

Malcolm and Victor looked at me like I was going crazy, and maybe I was. There was only one person that could be blamed for it, and she was standing inside somewhere.

I watched Malcolm and Victor return to the job as I tried to collect my calm. I would have to get it together if I was going to get this job done. I couldn't go flying off the handle when one of the men looked at her crossways. She was an attractive woman. Of course they were going to think so too. The important factor was that I was the one she was fucking, not them.

When I was sure they were back into the job, I turned around and walked inside the house. I unbuttoned my jeans and slipped out of them – hey, I had worked hard on finishing that floor myself; I wasn't about to mess it up. I bunched the denim up in my hands and padded my way towards my work station where I'd tossed my work bag.

"Oh my!" Sookie squeaked behind me. "Where are your pants?"

I turned around slowly. "Right here," I said raising them. "Didn't want to get anything on the floor. Why? Is that a problem?"

"Um," she swallowed, "no. Of course not." Her eyes hadn't traveled above my neck yet. "But I'm fairly sure not wearing pants is an OSHA violation."

I chuckled. "I'm fairly sure it is too. Not to mention a distraction, eh?"

"What?" Her eyes darted up to meet mine, and they were hazy with lust. "Oh, um, yes. A distraction."

I took a step towards her, closing the gap between us. "Would you like me to take the rest off?" I asked, leaning in to nuzzle her neck.

She let out a groan; part frustration, part desire. "Alcide," she whimpered. "Someone will see us."

"They're all busy," I said, running my mouth up to her ear and nipping at the lobe. "Besides, the fear of getting caught is part of the fun."

"No," she said, taking a reluctant step back. "We can't." She shook her head and widened the distance between us. "That was part of the rules."

I shrugged and turned back to pull my extra pants out of my work back, slipping them on before I turned back around. "Rules are meant to be broken Sookie. Someday you'll figure that out. I just hope it isn't too late."

* * *

**AN: **This Alcide has taken over my life. He doesn't want anyone to be written other than him (and a yet-to-be started Eric), much to the chagrin of the Swede and the Cowboy. The Cowboy is on indefinite hiatus... the Swede has a much better way of making me write him. In the meantime, I hope you are enjoying Alcide, cause there's a lot more to come!

Thanks to sunkisz for being an awesome beta!


	11. Chapter 11

Let me know that I've done wrong,  
When I've known this all along,  
I go around a time or two,  
Just to waste my time with you.

Tell me all that you've thrown away,  
Find out games you don't wanna play,  
You are the only one that needs to know

~Dirty Little Secret, All American Rejects

**Chapter 11**

**SPOV**

This was out of control.

Alcide Herveaux had mashed me up like two colors of Playdoh and I had no way of separating myself back.

I couldn't think straight; I hadn't slept a full night in an entire week; and eating? Ha. I couldn't even remember the last time I'd had more than a bite to eat. It was good for my diet, I supposed.

When I was at work, I was so focused on _not _thinking about Alcide that I hardly thought of anything else; and when I wasn't at work, I tried to test myself, to see how long I could go without seeing him again. Needless to say, he didn't help matters at all. I swear he was trying to tempt me, walking around in those damned jeans and white work shirts. My fingers itched to bunch the fabric between my fingers, to pull him to me and try to work him out of my system. And the looks he gave me practically annihilated my kneecaps.

I looked over as my blackberry made a series of noises, pulling my attention away from thoughts of Alcide again. This really was becoming a problem. The twice a week nightly visits rule had been killed before it could get off the ground. The one night I had planned on working in my hotel room, he'd shown up with a bottle of wine in his hand. This wasn't like me, but I wasn't entirely sure that I didn't like it.

I picked up my phone and scrolled through the series of emails that I'd been ignoring. There were a handful from Andre about the Leclerq job, a few from Bill's assistant with details on the colors he'd picked for the kitchen, and about fifteen emails from one Mr. Lafayette Reynolds that consisted of only three words: _I need details. _I hadn't responded to a single one.

I was in the process of deleting Lafayette's emails when the call came through. And, just my luck, I accidentally answered it.

"Shit," I murmured under my breath, pulling the phone up to my ear. "Hello?" I asked.

"Nice to talk to you too sweet thing," Lafayette's distinctive voice called over the phone. "Now why in the hell has your bitch ass been ignoring me?"

"What?" I asked nervously, looking around to make sure no one else was near.

"You've been ignoring me," he repeated.

"No I haven't," I said definitively. "I'm on a job. I don't have time to natter with you."

"Honey, we both know it's not the job that's keeping you busy. It's that handyman you've been nailing. Or is it hammering?" he asked with a laugh.

"Lafayette!" I shrieked, walking over to slam the door shut to the master bedroom where I was still set up. It was better to be on the second floor, as far away from Alcide as I could be.

His laughter filled the receiver. "What?" he asked innocently.

"I told you not to talk about that," I said under my breath.

"You afraid that one of the workers is going to hear me over the phone Sookie? That your dirty little secret is going to get out?"

"It's not a dirty little secret," I said. "That would imply that I'm ashamed of it. I'm not."

"Mmm hmm. Is that why you've been hiding him away in Shreveport?"

"I'm working here Laf," I said. "What do you want me to do? Drag him up to Boston and pull him behind me on a float along Boylston Street to announce it?"

"I'd go to that parade. Well at least if the handyman wasn't wearing a shirt." He made a satisfactory growl.

"Like that would happen," I murmured. "What do you want Laf?"

"Can't I call you to check in? What makes you think I want anything?"

"Laf," I said, rolling my eyes and picking my pencil back up. I had a short amount of time to get this done if I was going to make it out of work by six, and I wanted to get out by six. Alcide had a surprise planned for me. "You never call just to check in."

"Hmmm, well I suppose you're right. Just wanted to see what you've got planned for Mr. Compton's visit, unless of course you were planning on inviting him to join you and the handyman."

"What visit?" I asked with disinterest. "Wait!" I shrieked. "Visit? What are you talking about?" How could I have missed an important detail like that?

"Bill's visit," he repeated. "The one his assistant sent out an email about last night? At about nine?"

_Shit._ At nine o'clock last night I'd been up to my neck in a bubble bath at Alcide's house. I shook my head as I remembered how my phone had gone off, and how Alcide had thrown my phone into the corner when I'd reached to get it.

"Don't tell me you didn't get the message," Lafayette said through his laughter. "Oh that is rich. I'll bet you was planning for a little weekend rendezvous, weren't you?"

"No," I said, shaking my head to the empty room. It wasn't a lie exactly. I hadn't planned on the _entire _weekend.

"Don't you lie to me. I know you too well Sookie Stackhouse."

"I've got to go," I said. "If Bill's coming, there's a lot that we need to get done. If he saw the house how it was now…" I trailed off. "Well, let's just say I don't think he'd approve." Alcide's crew had managed to repair the septic tank, much to the detriment of the rest of the house.

I hung up before Lafayette could say anything and braced myself against the makeshift desk. _Shit._ I had never shown Bill a project in the state Belle Rive was in. It wasn't awful, far from it, but it wasn't perfect. It had to be perfect for Bill. _I _had to be perfect for Bill. Despite the fun I was having with Alcide, Bill was still my goal. He had to be. I'd worked too hard for anything else.

After I managed to compose myself, I made my way down to the kitchen and found Alcide sitting alone, humming to himself while he wrote on the plans with a gnawed on pencil.

"Alcide," I said, smiling a bit when his spine stiffened.

_There's no time for that Stackhouse_, I reprimanded myself.

"Hey Princess," he said, spinning around on his stool and giving me one of those lop-sided grins that melted my insides. "I was just thinking about you."

"That's nice," I said, trying to maintain a business edge in my voice.

"I don't know about nice," he said. "More naughty than anything."

"Alcide-" I started.

"I was thinking about how you're going to look when I've got you naked and on my counter tonight."

His counter? Shit. No. No. I mustn't give in.

"You shouldn't-"

"I know. I know. I shouldn't talk about it here," he said with a shrug and a glint in his eye. "I can't help it. I can't wait to have you to myself all weekend."

"Alcide, I need to talk to you about that."

"Don't you even think about bringing a change of clothes with you. You aren't going to need it."

"Alcide," I repeated again, my voice more stern. If he wasn't going to listen, I would have to make him.

"Cause the minute you cross my front step, you're in a clothing free zone, and I'd hate to have to reprimand you for violating the rules." The look he gave me told me exactly how much he'd like to reprimand me, and how much I would enjoy it.

"Bill's coming," I said. There. Short and simple.

"Though you can wear those heels if you'd like."

"Did you hear me?" I asked.

"What?" he asked, his eyes snapping up to meet mine from their lazy perusal of my legs.

"I said Bill's coming," I repeated.

"When?" he asked, suddenly alert.

"Tomorrow."

"Mother fucker," he said, under his breath. He looked down at his hands before his eyes met mine. "When in the hell were you going to tell me about this?"

I heard the sound of work boots as they came through the front door, followed by the men's laughter as they made their way towards us. "Sookie," Alcide continued. "When were you going to tell me about this?" he repeated.

"Not in front of the men," I said, taking a step back.

"Fuck the men," he growled. "Were you planning on telling me this? Or were you just going to surprise me and not show up tonight?"

"I'm not having this conversation," I said and spun on my heel to face the men who had congregated behind us. I hoped they hadn't heard any of our conversation, but it was too late if they had. "Gentlemen. I just received an email from Mr. Compton's assistant that Mr. Compton will be here to inspect the house tomorrow."

I heard Alcide curse behind me, but refused to turn around. "As you know, it is important that we impress Mr. Compton with the work we've completed to date. I know that it has been a struggle, but I want the tile in the kitchen completed by the end of the day. That will have to suffice, since we do not have the materials in for the counter yet."

"But Miss Stackhouse," Hoyt started. "That'll take all night, and-"

"I will not stand for any excuses. If you cannot get the job done, I will bring in someone that can. Do you understand?"

"Yes ma'am," Hoyt said sheepishly.

"I will stay here as long as it takes, and I would hope that the rest of you are committed enough to stay with me."

"It's Friday night," Alcide said behind me. "These men have friends and families that they need to get home to. Plans that they've made that shouldn't be interrupted because Mr. Compton decides to bring his Yankee ass down here."

I whipped around on my heel and glared at Alcide. I knew exactly what he was talking about. Did he not think that it bothered me that our plans were upset too? Did he not know that the last thing I wanted to do on a Friday night was stay in Bon Temps waiting for tile to be laid?

"That's it, Herveaux," I seethed. "These men are grown adults that understand you need to work until you're finished. Maybe if you got off your lazy ass and gave them some direction instead of sitting here doodling all day, we wouldn't be in this quandary."

"Maybe," he barked, standing up and towering over me, "if you didn't change your goddamned mind every fucking second, we would have gotten the tile done a week ago."

God I wanted to hit him. Hit him and then pull him down and kiss him. Why was he so ridiculously infuriating? I heard one of the men cough behind us, but was too caught up in my anger to care. His eyes burned into mine, anger rolling off of him in waves. I guess I wasn't the only one upset.

"Last I checked, I was the project manager and you were hired to follow my orders." He wanted Ice Princess? I could give him Ice Princess.

"Last I checked, you're just a glorified interior designer. Shit you haven't swung a tool with those manicured hands of yours. A real project manager would be getting down and dirty with the crew."

Oh I'd swing a tool all right; right into his tool. "Fine. You want me to help? I'll help." I pushed up the sleeves of my sweater. "Where do you want me?"

"I've got a few ideas," he said, so low that I barely heard it.

I shook my head at him and turned to face the men. "The longer you stand there with your jaws on the floor, the later we'll be here tonight. So, unless you all want to grab your sleeping bags and braid each other's hair, I'd suggest you get back to work."

I would have laughed at the way the group scrambled if I wasn't so mad. Malcolm and Victor nearly knocked each other over in a hurry to get upstairs. Once the last man was gone, I spun around and glared at Alcide.

"Don't you dare say a word to me," I seethed. "Not one word."

And before he could respond, I walked out of the room and headed upstairs after the men. I could show them that I was willing to get my hands dirty.

We were at Belle Rive until 10:30 that night, and much to their credit, I didn't hear one man complain about staying late. After my showdown with Alcide, they were either too afraid or too stunned to say anything to me.

After the tile was completed to my satisfaction, I sent the men home and told Alcide to lock up behind him. I didn't want to deal with him tonight. Couldn't deal with him.

The drive back to Shreveport seemed long; excruciatingly long. I knew that the next day would be busy, that I would need to be on the top of my game when I showed Bill the house. Every minute that I wasn't in my hotel was one less minute that I'd be able to sleep.

My phone buzzed when I reached my hotel room, and I threw it to the side when I saw that it was Alcide calling. There was no way I was going to deal with him right now. Not when he'd called me a glorified interior designer. Yes, I'd said some insulting things too, but he knew how much that cut to the bone.

My phone buzzed again when I was taking my make up off, and again when I was changing into my pajamas. The guy was persistent if nothing else. That still didn't mean I was going to take his call.

By some stroke of good fortune, I fell asleep the minute my head hit the pillow, though my sleep was far from restful. I finally climbed out of bed at 5:30, leaving the mess of sheets behind me as I climbed into the shower and began to prepare for the day.

I checked my phone after my hair was dry, and laughed when I saw that I had seven missed calls from Alcide, coming at thirty minute intervals from 11 pm and finally stopping with the call at 2 am. There was one message, which came from that last call. A better person might have listened to it, but I wasn't feeling like a better person.

I poured myself into the plans until it was time to head to the airfield and pick up Bill. I had dressed with care, putting on a white dress that I knew Bill would like and my tan heels.

"Susannah!" he said, holding his hands out to me as he walked down the steps of the jet. "What a sight for sore eyes you are." He clasped my hands in his and leaned forward to brush a kiss against my cheek. "I was afraid you wouldn't be here. Daphne said you hadn't responded to her emails about my arrival."

"I'm sorry about that," I said, my stomach doing a flip as he tucked my hand into the crook of his arm. "I was so caught up on the project that I didn't have a chance to respond."

"I worry about you Susannah," he said, patting my hand with his free hand. "You work too hard on these jobs. I'm afraid you'll run yourself ragged."

I smiled as he opened up the driver's door to my small SUV and ushered me inside. "Nonsense," I said, taking a seat and turning to smile at him. "I wouldn't dream of giving one of your projects less than my very best."

"You are too good to me," he said as he shook his head and returned my smile, shutting the door firmly and walking to the passenger door. I started the engine when he was inside and buckled.

"Did you have a nice flight?"

"It was lovely," he said. "But, please, enough about me. Tell me how you are."

_Well, let's see. I've been screwing your foreman, and not managing to get a lick of sleep in the process._

Yeah. Probably not what he was looking to hear.

"The project is going well," I started. "We're a little behind schedule due to the storm, but you knew about that."

Bill chuckled and turned in his seat to face me. "I didn't ask about the project. I asked about you. I haven't seen you in ages."

"Two weeks," I said, with a nod. "It's only been two weeks."

"Is that all?" he asked. "It seems much longer. I guess I didn't realize how you spoiled me with your presence."

I should have blushed. I would have blushed two weeks ago, but now I couldn't force it if I tried. I uttered a shy dismissal and tried to change the subject.

"Have you been staying busy in Boston? Have I missed many functions?"

"I've been here and there," he said. I saw him shrug out of the corner of my eye as I turned down the road to Bon Temps. "But not nearly as much as when you are in town. My plus ones aren't nearly as entertaining as you are."

Why couldn't I take the flattery? Why couldn't I flirt back? It felt awkward, stilted. I needed to get back to a conversation where I would be comfortable.

"I'm sure you're going to be excited when you see the progress we've made," I said.

He chuckled. "Okay, I can see you want to change the subject. Why don't you tell me about what you've done. Have you been getting along well with Alcide?"

"Yes." You could say that. Well, at least up until last night. "We've figured out how to work well together. I think you'll appreciate the combination of our design aesthetics. We've created some really beautiful rooms."

"I wouldn't expect any less of you," Bill said.

I doubted he would expect what was really happening, but then again, he'd never know.

My breath caught in my throat as I pulled into the long driveway of Belle Rive and spotted Alcide's black truck. What in the hell was he doing here?

"What a nice surprise," Bill said, unbuckling his seatbelt as we pulled next to the truck. "You didn't tell me Alcide was going to be here as well."

"It must have slipped my mind," I said, plastering on the biggest smile I could muster. I slowly opened the door, dreading what was about to happen. I hoped Alcide would be able to keep his cool around Bill. Maybe I should have taken his calls after all. This was hardly the appropriate time to have a discussion.

"Lookie what we've got here," Alcide's deep voice drawled as Bill and I walked towards the veranda. I squinted into the sunlight and saw his tall figure leaning casually against the doorway.

"Hello Alcide," Bill said, stepping forward and offering his hand. Alcide took it and looked over at me as he shook it. His eyes flew over me in a possessive manner, so much so that I was sure he spotted something on me that I didn't know about. I looked down quickly and back up when I saw that everything was right.

"Nice to see you Bill," Alcide responded, turning back to face him. "I guess Soo- erm Susannah here has filled you in on all our progress?"

"Yes," Bill said, offering me a smile over his shoulder. "She's a real gem, isn't she?"

"Yes she is," Alcide said, with only a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "We don't know what we'd do without her." I scanned his face, noticed the dark circles under his eyes that let on how little sleep he'd gotten the night before. A part of me longed to reach out and offer him some consolation, but then I remembered what he'd said.

"I'm sure you'd come up with something," I said lightly, brushing past them as I walked into the front door. "Shall I give you the grand tour?" I asked Bill.

"Yes, let _us _give you the tour," Alcide interjected, placing far too much emphasis on the word "us."

"I'm quite sure I can handle it Alcide."

"I'm quite sure you can too, Susannah," he responded. "But I'll like to see Bill's take on things just as much as you would."

"No need to argue," Bill said with a laugh. "Why don't both of you show me?"

"Ladies first," Alcide said, making a sweeping gesture with his hand.

Fine. If that was how it was going to be, that was how it was going to be.

I led Bill through the finished rooms, stopping at the end of the tour to admire the work on the fireplace. "The detail work is quite intricate," I said, pointing to the pattern that had been worked into the flagstone. "We replicated the original fireplace as best as we could."

"It's beautiful," Bill said.

"And it heats up the house real good, doesn't it Susannah?" Alcide asked, giving me a lopsided smile. The bastard was trying to ruffle my feathers. Good luck with that.

"Yes, it does," I said with a fake smile. "We had to turn it on when we got stuck here in that rainstorm. I believe I told you about that Bill, didn't I?" I could play that game too.

"You did."

"I'm sure she didn't give you _all _the details though," Alcide said.

I scowled at him when Bill wasn't looking. "Why bore him with something so insignificant?"

That shut him up.

"You two have done a great job," Bill said, ignoring the tension in the room. "I can't believe the progress you've made. I've seen the pictures Susannah has sent up, but nothing could compare to seeing it in person."

"Thank you," we both said.

"Aunt Caroline would be proud to see her home restored so perfectly," Bill continued. "And I can't wait to see Mother's reaction. Would you mind giving me a moment Susannah? I'd like to call her and let her know how it's going."

"Of course," I said. "Take your time."

The minute he was out of the room, Alcide was next to me. "Why didn't you answer my calls?" he asked, his breath dancing across my cheek.

I looked around him and saw that Bill was well out of ear shot. "This is not the time," I whispered.

"When is the time then?" he asked, lowering his voice. "You won't answer my calls, and now I have to see you hanging all over _him._ What am I supposed to do Sookie?"

"I'm not," I seethed, "_hanging _all over him."

"You could have fooled me. I saw the way you were looking at him."

"And how, exactly, was I looking at him?"

"Like he's the prize you've always wanted," he spat out.

"That's ridiculous."

"Is it?" he asked. He shook his head and reached out to grab my hand. "Sookie. I'm sorry. I can't do this."

"Can't do what?" I asked, looking down at our clasped hands in wonder.

"I can't stand by and do nothing while you're with him. Not when I know what we're like. Not when I know how hot I can make you, and how hot you make me in return."

"Alcide," I said, letting out a small whimper when he ran his thumb across the veins of my wrist. The man knew how to tie me up in knots.

"Come over today," he commanded.

"I can't."

"Why not?" he asked, leaning in so close that I felt the stubble of his unshaven beard on my cheek.

"I'm having dinner with Bill. I told him I would."

"Fuck," Alcide said. One word, so packed full of emotion that I thought my knees were going to give out.

"I'm sorry," I said, and for once genuinely meant it.

I heard Bill's footsteps coming towards us and pulled loose from Alcide's grip.

"This isn't over," he said, low enough so that only I could hear it. "Not by a long shot."

"I never said it was."

I turned to face Bill, who was walking towards us with a smile on his face. "She can't wait to see it," he said, reaching out and placing his hand on my arm. I looked over at Alcide, who looked like he would have ripped Bill's heart out given the opportunity. "She told me to say hello to you," he said, looking at Alcide. "And she sends her love to you, Susannah."

We stood there in uncomfortable silence for a moment before Bill cleared his throat. "Shall we go, Susannah?" he asked.

I nodded, and followed after him as he said his goodbyes to Alcide. I couldn't meet his eye. There was too much tension, too much raw emotion left between us. I wasn't prepared to deal with it.

I was halfway out the door when I heard Alcide say my name, and turned around before I could stop myself. He stood there looking at me, promises of what was to come filling his eyes.

I shook my head and turned back around, heading into the sunlight and pushing Alcide out of my mind. For now.

**AN: **A couple of notes/announcements:

Thyra10, Sapfirerose and I have created a community and an associated challenge for stories that do not have Eric/Sookie or Sookie/Bill as the main pairing. Since you're reading this, you're inclined to be receptive to other pairings, and I think you'd enjoy the stories that will hopefully be created. Please head on over and give it a go:

www . fanfiction . net/community/When_Two_Wrongs_Make_a_Right/81488/

If you're looking for a good laugh, I'd suggest looking at the banner that the fabulous peppermintyrose made after pfloogs72 and I had on twitter regarding a hot iron fight for Sookie's honor between Heat Alcide and Heat Bill. I promise, you will not be disappointed.

http : //i42 . tinypic . com/2rrqxc5 . jpg

Okay, now that the announcements are over, back to the main show. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter of the Heat. While there is some drama, never fear, I don't believe in dragging it out too long. We'll have resolution soon!


	12. Chapter 12

Logic will get you from A to B. Imagination will take you everywhere.

~Albert Einstein

**Chapter 12**

**APOV**

The mind is a fertile playground for the imagination. And my imagination was going into overdrive.

I'd spent the last four hours tearing out the cabinets in the kitchen of Belle Rive, while Sookie was off God knows where, doing God knows what with Bill Compton. If I tried hard enough, focused enough, I wouldn't get visuals. But when I let my mind wander, vivid images of the two of them flashed across my mind -- images of Sookie naked and wrapped around Bill's pasty body.

I couldn't do this. Don't get me wrong, I fully understood that Sookie wasn't sleeping with me because she thought we'd walk down the aisle someday. Far from it. And I can't say that that's what I was looking for either. But I'd never really learned how to share, and Bill coming in and taking Sookie was just like when he'd stolen my Tonka truck when we were five years old. If only I could've punched him now like I had then, but we were grown adults, and he was paying me to work for him, not to punch him. So, rather than punch the man himself, I took it out on his house.

When I'd completed a good amount of destruction, I shut the house and climbed back into my truck. I wanted to look at my phone, to see if she'd called, but I knew better. Bill Compton was Sookie's golden egg. I knew this. It wasn't as if it had been a secret, but that didn't make it any easier to swallow. We'd have to have a talk about what Bill meant to our little arrangement. And soon.

I drove around aimlessly, trying to pass the time in any way that I could, and found myself in front of my sister's house. Yeah, maybe a few hours with the family would help me forget my women problems.

"Hey Alc," Janice said, flashing me a confused look when she opened the door. "Was I supposed to be expecting you?"

"Nope," I said, brushing past her. "Can't a guy visit his sister unannounced?"

"You know you're always welcome," she said, closing the door behind her. "But I thought you might be busy with Miss Three Boxes, like you have been every night for the past two weeks."

I shrugged and made my way into her living room. She was right. If Bill hadn't come to ruin my plans, I imagined I would have been very busy with a very naked Sookie Stackhouse. But things changed, and I was doing my best to adjust.

"What can I say?" I asked, walking over and swooping Tommy into my arms. "I missed the little guy."

Tommy laughed in delight as I swung him up and over my shoulders.

"Alcide!" Janice said. "You know I don't like it when you toss Tommy around. What if you dropped him?"

"You have a better chance of making an edible meal than I do of dropping him," I said, though I lowered him until he was sitting on my hip, his sticky hands leaving orange fingerprints on my white shirt. "Cheetos Jan? Again? He's two years old. He's gotta start eating something real soon."

She shrugged and sat down on the couch. "I'm a working mother, Alcide. I don't have time to cook every meal."

"Or any meal," I said with a laugh as I sat down on the floor and set Tommy next to me. "Really Janice. The boy has to get some real nutrition sometime if you want him to be big and strong like his Uncle."

"You're more than welcome to cook for him any time you want Uncle Alcide," she said sarcastically. "You can feed him anything you want. Spinach. Carrots. All the green you can get him to swallow. Why, you can babysit him tonight if you'd like. Give Dell and me a night out."

Her tone was full of mirth, but frankly that didn't sound like such a bad idea. How could I possibly think of Sookie when I was up to my elbows in Tommy?

"Okay," I said.

"What?" Janice asked, sitting up straight in her chair.

"I said okay. I'll watch him tonight." Tommy clapped his hands together in delight.

"Hallelujah! Dell!" Janice called out. "Dell you'll never believe it."

My amenable brother-in-law peeked his head out of the computer room and waved when he saw me. "Hey Alcide."

"Hey Dell."

"You'll never believe what Alcide just offered to do," Janice said, pushing up out of the recliner.

"I have no idea," he said, coming to stand next to Janice. "But if it involves his chicken parmesan, I'm in."

"It's better than his chicken. He offered to babysit Tommy for us!" Janice squealed with delight. "We can go out to dinner. Have a real conversation that doesn't involve _The Backyardigans_ or _Diego_!"

Dell looked back and forth between Janice and me to make sure that she wasn't joking, and then a big smile broke out across his face. "Really?"

"Yeah really," I said, standing up. "You'd think I never babysat Tommy before the way you two are acting."

"I know, I know!" Janice said. "It's just been forever since we've both had a night off. What do you need? Do you want to watch him here? Take him to your place? Anything. Anything you want!"

Two hours later and I was standing at my kitchen counter, cleaning up the dinner that I had planned to make for Sookie as Tommy played on the floor next to me. The good news? Tommy enjoyed the spinach raviolli as much as I expected Sookie to have. The bad? While I wasn't opposed to getting dirty in the kitchen, it wasn't nearly as fun to clean the food off Tommy as it would have been to clean off Sookie.

_Dammit. Stop thinking about her._

She was probably out at dinner with Bill now, laughing at his stupid jokes. Maybe their hands would brush across the table; she'd lean across and brush something off his face; he'd suck her fingers into his mouth. No. No. Thinking like this wouldn't do me any favors, and the thought of Bill Compton being _that _sexual was ridiculous. Who was I kidding? I'd thrown logic and reason out the window the minute she said his name.

"You want to go watch a movie Tommy?" I asked, laughing as Tommy banged on one of my pots with a wooden spoon. It didn't matter that Janice had packed far more toys than he could possibly play with in one night, he was content with the basics.

He looked up at me with his big green eyes and nodded. "Wiggles," he said, reaching his arms up to me so that I would pick him up.

"Again?" I asked with a laugh, swinging him up onto my shoulders. Hey, I had to get it in when Janice wasn't around, and Tommy seemed to like it well enough.

He answered with a giggle as I carried him into the living room and put him down on the couch. "Okay little guy, but it's almost your bedtime," I said, looking at the clock. "You're going to have to go to sleep soon."

Janice and Dell said they'd be back to pick Tommy up around nine-thirty, which would give us an hour to get him into his pajamas and to sleep before they got here, provided he didn't give me too much trouble. But hell, that'd just be one more thing to do to keep me occupied, right?

Thirty minutes of getting ready to wiggle apparently was enough to wear a two year old out. I carefully set a sleeping Tommy down on the couch and returned to the kitchen to finish cleaning up. I was putting the last dish away when I heard the knock on the door.

9:15? They were early.

I made my way to the door, smiling at Tommy as I passed him.

"What, you get bored with each other and had to leave dinner early?" I asked swinging the door open with a grin. A grin that was immediately wiped off my face. "Oh!"

Janice and Dell weren't standing there. No. Sookie was. Wearing a blue dress that clung to her every curve.

"Hey," she said, looking up at me uncertainly.

"Hey," I responded, too stunned to say anything clever or witty.

"Mind if I come in?" she asked, looking past me into the house.

"Oh, um… of course not," I said stepping to the side. I grabbed her hand, remembering Tommy's presence as she walked inside. "Shhh," I said, raising my finger to my lips.

She looked at me questionably, and followed my eyes as I inclined my head towards Tommy.

"Oh!" she said, her voice barely above a whisper. I shut the door behind her, and led her past Tommy's sleeping figure to the kitchen.

"What are you doing here?" I asked as soon as we were in the kitchen.

She shook her head and took a seat at the counter. "Who's that in there?" she asked, ignoring my question.

"My nephew, Tommy. What are you doing here?" I repeated.

"I just dropped Bill off at the hotel," she said.

"The hotel you're staying at?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"Didn't he want to know where you were going?" She nodded. "What did you tell him?"

"I told him I had business to take care of."

"Is that so?" I asked skeptically, propping my elbows on the counter.

"We need to talk Alcide," she said, nodding her head firmly.

"So talk."

"I didn't know he was coming," she said. "Bill." As if she could be talking about anyone else. "I would have told you earlier if I knew," she added. "I found out upstairs yesterday. Right before I came down and told you."

"Okay," I said, uncertain of the response she was looking for.

"I couldn't stop thinking about it during dinner tonight. Bill kept talking about the house, and you…" she trailed off.

Okay, so they hadn't been making out between bites of sushi. Good to hear. Not that I would imagine Bill was man enough to make the moves on someone like Sookie Stackhouse. He hadn't yet, what would make me think that would change in one night?

"What do you want Sookie?" I asked. She looked up at me, looking confused at my question.

"What do you mean?"

"What do you want from me Sookie?"

"I thought that was obvious," she said, scanning her eyes over my body hungrily.

"Sex?" I asked.

She nodded.

"Are you having sex with Bill?" I asked outright. I was fairly confident her answer would be no, but I might as well not beat around the bush.

"What?" she gasped. "No!"

"Are you sure?"

"If I was having sex with Bill, what in the hell would I be doing here in your house when he's staying at my hotel?"

"Good point."

She stood up and walked around the counter, stopping inches away from me. "But why would you care? A relationship wasn't part of our _arrangement,_ was it?"

"I didn't say we had to have a relationship Princess," I said, turning to face her. "But I can't say I'm very good at sharing. In fact, I am fucking terrible at it. And the thought of you and him…" I reached out and ran my finger down the length of her jaw. "While there is a you and me…it just doesn't sit well with me."

"And…?" she asked, her breath catching as my thumb brushed across her lips.

"And," I said, lowering my voice as I leaned forward. "I'm not willing to share. When you're with me, when you're having sex with me, you're with me and no one else. When you want to be with him…you're not with me anymore. Simple as that. Just say the word and this can end. I won't put up a fight if you're honest with me."

Conflict crossed her blue eyes as she looked into mine, and she did that ridiculously sexy thing where she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. "Okay," she whispered.

"So, what do you say Princess? Do you want to be with me?"

She nodded, never breaking eye contact. "Good," I said with a smile. "I was hoping you'd say that." I closed the gap between us, my lips on hers in a flash. It had been less than 48 hours, but it felt a hell of a lot longer. I groaned as she melted against me, her hands roaming up and under my shirt as she grasped for more.

I don't know how long we stayed like that. There was no sense of time. Only when the doorbell rang did I even realize my surroundings.

"Oh shit," I said against Sookie's mouth.

"What?" she panted.

"My sister," I said. "Don't move," I commanded, taking a reluctant step backwards. I spun around when I reached the doorway, and hurried over to the door.

"Hey," I said swinging the door open.

"You fall asleep?" Janice asked with a smirk. "I knocked like ten times before I rang the doorbell."

"No," I said, shaking my head. "I was…erm…busy."

"Whatever," she said, sweeping past me. "As long as you didn't maim Tommy, I couldn't care less about what you were doing."

"Hey Alcide," Dell said, coming in behind Hurricane Janice. "Was he okay for you?"

"What? Yeah," I said. "He was great. I've got most of his stuff ready to go. Let me just go grab his bag in the kitchen."

"I can get it," Janice said ahead of me, continuing towards the kitchen. Where Sookie was. _Shit._

"That's okay!" I said, chasing after her. "I can-"

"I'm capable of grabbing a bag Alcide," she called over her shoulder. She rounded the corner to the kitchen and I heard her gasp. Guess she found what I was hiding. I came to a halt behind Janice and looked over at Sookie, mouthing a silent apology.

"Hi," Sookie said, giving a small wave. "You must be Alcide's sister."

"Yeah," Janice said, slowly. "And you must be…"

"Sookie. Sookie Stackhouse." She extended her hand, which Janice took and shook slowly. "I am working on a project with your brother."

"Nice to meet you," Janice said, letting go and turning around to face me. "I didn't realize you'd be having visitors. We would've come to pick up Tommy earlier."

"That's okay. Sookie just stopped by to go over some…plans."

"Mmm hmm," Janice said as she quirked her eyebrow and gave me a wink. "I guess we should be going. Leave you two alone to, um, get back to work."

"That's okay," Sookie said. "I was just heading out. I don't want to interrupt anything."

"No!"Janice exclaimed. "Really," she said, backing out of the kitchen quickly. "We've got to get going. Dell is tired. Right honey?"

"What?" Dell asked, looking up from his position on the couch where he had sat next to sleeping Tommy.

"You're tired," Janice repeated. "Right. Honey?"

"Um. Yeah. Tired." He gave a fake yawn and stood up quickly, swooping up Tommy without unsettling him.

They were out the door before I could say anything more, Janice yelling over her shoulder that I needed to call her tomorrow and let her know if I needed any more boxes.

The door shut behind them and then it was just Sookie and me.

"Oh God, she knows," Sookie said, coming to stand next to me.

"No she doesn't," I said.

"Yes. She does. How embarrassing. I feel like we just got caught by your parents. She probably thinks I'm a slut. Oh God," Sookie began pacing back and forth in front of me.

"Janice isn't like that," I said with a laugh. "Believe me. She's not like that at all. She high fived me when you weren't looking."

"She didn't!" Sookie gasped, covering her face with her hands.

"She did," I said, reaching out and pulling her into my arms. "But I can't be bothered to care what my sister thinks when you're wearing that dress." I leaned down and nuzzled the top of Sookie's head with my cheek.

"You like it?" she asked with a smirk, apparently over the thought of my sister.

"It looks good on you." I ran my hands down the length of her back. "But it'd look even better off of you."

She laughed and took a step back. "Uh uh. I'm not taking this off unless you take off all of that." She waved her hand up and down at my outfit.

"Easy enough Princess," I said, giving her a wink as I peeled my t-shirt over my head. Her eyes wandered across my chest, taking in every inch. "Better?" I asked.

"Much," she said with a nod. "Though still not good enough."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah." She closed the distance between us and reached out, tugging at the buttons of my jeans. "There's a lot more that needs to be taken care of. Do you mind?" she asked, quirking her eyebrow at me.

"Not at all." She had my pants unbuttoned and down around my ankles in seconds. I kicked them off and turned back to face her so she could see the evidence of how interested I was.

"Perfect," she said with a nod. Her hands skirted down my chest, brushing lightly against the erection she'd caused before encircling it entirely. She looked up at me with a glint in her eye before leaning forward and pressing kisses against my chest as her hands went to work.

"Fuck Sookie," I groaned, clasping her dress.

She laughed and tilted her head up to kiss me. Her lips were demanding, her tongue keeping rhythm to her movements below. When I couldn't take it anymore, I reached down and stopped her.

"Your turn," I said at her unspoken question. "Do you want help taking this off, or do you want to do it all yourself?"

"This dress is kind of tricky," she said with a shrug, turning around and holding her hair out of the way.

"I'm the King of Tricks," I said, stepping forward and undoing her zipper in one swift motion.

"I know you are. I'm fond of quite a few of your tricks." Her breath hitched as I pushed the dress down her arms and unhooked her bra with a flick of my wrist. "I was hoping you'd be willing to show me more of what you've got in your retinue."

"I'd be happy to give you everything I've got," I said, nipping at her ear as I pushed the last scrap of fabric separating us down her hips.

She spun around and looped her hands around my neck, letting out a loud laugh when I wrapped her legs around my waist and carried her back to my bedroom.

"I can't wait."


	13. Chapter 13

Well, rules are meant to be broken... or... stabbed with spikey shoes.

~Phileas Fogg, Around the World in Eighty Days

**

* * *

Chapter 13**

**SPOV**

I stared at the ceiling, wishing I didn't have to crawl out of Alcide's warm bed and head back to the hotel just yet. The sound of his breathing filled my ears, and I looked over and watched him as he slept; a smirk on his face. I wondered what he was dreaming about. Well, I probably had a fairly good idea.

"Alcide," I whispered, running my hand down his bare arm. He grumbled and turned onto his back. "Alcide," I said a bit louder, gently shaking his arm.

His eyes opened and he blinked a few times before looking over at me. "Hey," he said with a smile.

"Hey."

"I was wondering if you were a part of my overactive dream life," he said, pulling me down until my head rested on his shoulder. "I'm glad you're really here."

"Me too," I said. And I was. After a moment, I spoke again. "I need to go."

"Uh uh," he said, pinning me down more.

"Alcide," I said with a groan, though secretly I couldn't help but be thrilled. "I have to get back to the hotel. I told Bill I'd have breakfast with him before I drove him back to the airfield."

"Fuck Bill," he said, then after a moment. "Actually, don't fuck Bill, but you know what I mean. Stay."

"I can't," I reaffirmed. "It's just breakfast."

"I can feed you breakfast. I've got some syrup and some whipped cream we could get creative with."

I sat up and shook my head, laughing. "As tempting as that sounds, I need to go."

"Alright," he said wearily. "But say you'll come back after you drop him off."

I looked to the side and shook my head. "I shouldn't. I've got so much to do."

"Like what?" he asked, sitting up.

"I've got to go pick up some fabric samples downtown, and I'm supposed to meet the landscaper for lunch."

"On a Sunday?" he asked incredulously.

"Yeah, on a Sunday. Some people work on the weekend Alcide."

"Okay, well I'll go with you."

"What? No," I said, firmly.

"Why not?"

"Because that's not part of our arrangement. We're exclusive to your house and my hotel, remember?"

"Princess, we've broken most of the rules of the arrangement." It was true, but that didn't make it any easier to swallow. Going out with him, spending a day alone with him in public would change things, make it more like we were dating and not just screwing like rabbits. "Besides," he continued, "I've got a vested interest in this project too you know. I promise to keep it professional."

I scoffed. Alcide was far from professional at any time. But he was right in saying he had an interest in what I was doing today. Truth be told, I would have asked for his opinion anyway. And the thought of getting to spend some more time with him outside of Belle Rive did hold its appeal.

"Come on Sook," he said, reaching out and grabbing my hand. "I promise I'll behave."

"Alright," I said, shaking my head. "But if you embarrass me, I swear I'll get you back."

"Promise?" he asked with a wink.

ooo

I snuck back into the hotel, feeling every ounce like the Queen of the Walk of Shame. It wasn't the first time I'd come back to the hotel from Alcide's house at the crack of dawn, but it felt infinitely seedier when I knew that Bill was staying here.

"Bill," I said to myself as I got into the elevator, shaking my head as I pressed the button for the seventh floor. I wasn't sure what to do about Bill exactly. I mean, I knew in the long run that Bill was the guy for me. We got along so well on so many of the important levels – we enjoyed the same things, we had the same friends, and we were comfortable. What else could I ask for in a potential mate? An image of Alcide crossed my mind, and I shook my head. As fun as Alcide was, he wasn't long-term material. I knew that. He knew that. We were too combustible, too different to actually be anything to one another long term. So, until Bill came around, I would enjoy my time with Alcide. And let me say, I was _really _enjoying my time with Alcide.

I quickly showered, dressed and somehow managed to make it downstairs to breakfast in time to meet Bill. He was sitting in the sunlight, reading the paper and looking as handsome as ever. Bill looked exactly as I had always thought my future husband would. He was well-groomed, worked out but wasn't overly muscular, and he had a kind face. Yes, there was no raw animal magnetism like I felt with Alcide, but that was good. That kind of attraction burned out; it had to, or it would consume you. I was in no position to be consumed.

"Susannah," Bill said, looking up from his paper with a smile.

"Hello Bill," I said, leaning up to kiss his cheeks in greeting. "Sorry I'm late."

"Not at all," he said looking at his watch. "You are right on time. You know how I am. Always early."

I took the seat he pulled out and took my time placing my napkin on my lap as the waiter poured a steaming cup of coffee. After the night I had, I didn't think there was enough coffee in the world to keep me awake.

"What are you smiling about?" Bill asked curiously.

_Smiling?_ _Shit. _"Nothing!" I said. "I was just thinking how nice it is to have breakfast with you before you have to leave. It's a shame your trip is so short."

"It is," he said, reaching out and grabbing his cup of coffee. "I would have rather enjoyed spending some more time with you down here. You're doing a beautiful job on the property."

"Thank you."

"I wouldn't expect any less of you Susannah. You've never done anything less than perfect. I sometimes wonder if that applies to all areas of your life."

I shook my head and smiled. "Not hardly. I do many bad things." He quirked his eyebrow. "I mean, I do many things badly." Who was I kidding? I did many bad things, and would continue to do many more bad things with one very, very bad man.

"I doubt that," Bill responded as the waiter came to take our order. When our orders had been placed, Bill took a sip of his coffee and looked up at me. "So, tell me, what was so important that you had to leave so suddenly last night? Did you get an email from Lafayette?"

"What? No. Um…" I trailed off. "I needed to speak with Alcide about our meetings today. Make sure he could attend."

Bill scanned my face, which I did everything I could to keep still. When he didn't find anything, he smiled to himself. "I am so happy that you get along so well with Alcide, Susannah."

Yeah. Me too. We got along a lot better than Bill would ever know.

"He's excellent at what he does." In many ways.

"Yes," I said, grabbing at my coffee for something to distract me. "He is excellent."

"I knew you'd come around," Bill said with a nod. "He's a bit difficult to work with, or so I've heard. But I've not met someone with his particular way of doing things. He always gets the job done exactly as it needs to be."

_Yes_, I thought to myself, _he did have a unique way of getting the job done. And it was always done to satisfaction_.

"What's got you smiling so Susannah?" Bill asked, pulling me out of my reverie.

"What?" I asked, shaking my head. _Shit._ I'd been caught. "Oh, nothing. I was thinking about an argument I had with him over the tile in the master bath."

"Well, whoever won the argument was right. It is perfect. I didn't think you could outdo yourself Susannah, but you have." His eyes gleamed with something akin to admiration.

"It's really been a team effort," I said, shocking myself. It wasn't that I didn't give credit where credit was due, but there was a part of me that needed to ensure that Bill knew Alcide and his team's role in the progress to date.

"Glad to hear it. Now, I want you to forget about work for this next hour. You need to eat something. You've gotten quite thin since you've been down here. Not that you weren't always thin Susannah, but I'm afraid you're running yourself ragged."

"I haven't been sleeping well," I said, offering Bill a smile. "It's nothing."

"I don't like seeing you like this Susannah," Bill said, reaching out and covering my hand with his. "You need to take of yourself. I'd hate to see you unwell because of me."

It had absolutely nothing to do with him, well at least not directly. I supposed that I wouldn't be in the predicament I was in if it wasn't for him, because without Bill Compton, I never would have met Alcide Herveaux. I really needed to stop thinking about him.

"I'm fine," I said with a smile. "Right as rain even."

"Good to hear it." He hadn't moved his hand from mine. "I wanted to ask you something. There's an event my mother's co-chairing in Boston a week from Friday. Some big charity gala for the Museum of Fine Arts. It should be as the house is wrapping up if you're on schedule. Could I convince you to take a night and go with me?"

"Of course!" I said, trying to disguise my excitement. His mother's charity event? He'd never asked me to attend something his mother was chairing. Maybe his feelings towards me were changing after all. But I couldn't get ahead of myself.

"Excellent," he said, taking his hand back. "I'll send my jet down for you. And of course, I'll have Daphne email you the details."

ooo

Alcide was ready and waiting when I pulled into his driveway, the door swinging open as I rounded the corner on his sidewalk.

"What took you so long Princess?" he asked, blocking the sun out of his eyes with his hand.

"I'm not late," I said, looking down at my watch. "Actually, I'm ten minutes early." Bill had received a call from a business associate during our breakfast, and had needed to head to the airport a little early. It gave me plenty of time to swing back by the hotel and freshen up for my day with Alcide, a day I was looking forward to far too much for a woman who had eaten breakfast with another man.

He reached out and grabbed my hand, pulling me inside and pressing me up against the closed door behind me. "Mmm," he murmured, nuzzling his head into my neck. "It seems like forever since you left."

I laughed and tilted my head, offering him a larger expanse of my neck, squealing when the stubble of his beard tickled my sensitive skin. "It's only been five hours."

"Five hours away from you is too long Princess." His lips were doing deliciously wicked things to my neck. Things that made me want to say "fuck it" to my errands and resume where we'd taken off before I had to leave.

"Alcide," I whimpered.

"Yes Sookie?" he asked between nips.

"We can't stay here. We've got to go."

He pushed into me, his body pressed against the length of mine as I was pushed harder against the door. "You sure about that?" he asked, his hands roaming over the fabric of my dress as his lips captured mine in a searing kiss.

"Yes," I said once I'd managed to regain my breath. "Positive. I have to meet the landscaper for lunch at one."

"Pity," he said, backing away from me slowly and leaving me to stand on my own two feet. "I was hoping to stay in."

"We've got to eat sometime," I said, offering him a smile.

"I've got nothing against eating Princess," he said. "I just had a different meal in mind." I felt my blush rise as his eyes raked over my body, and couldn't say anything in response. "Well if we've got to go, we should get going."

He grabbed my hand and led me out the door, walking me to the passenger's side and depositing me in the seat. He reached across me as he buckled me in.

"I can buckle myself, you know," I said.

"I know," he replied, turning his head until his lips were inches from mine. "But I'm not giving up any excuses to touch you." He stepped back and shut the door, walking over to his side of the truck.

How in the hell was I supposed to respond to him? How was I supposed to do anything around him when he said things like that? I felt like an awkward 14 year old girl. Where Bill made me feel refined and elegant, Alcide made me feel raw. I had never wanted a man like I wanted Alcide. I figured the more I was around him, the less I would want to be around him. Unfortunately, that hadn't happened yet. If anything, being around Alcide made me want him more. I didn't have to play at anything; didn't have to pretend to be something I wasn't.

He climbed into the truck and started the engine, backing out of his driveway without saying a word.

"So," I started cautiously, "I had breakfast with Bill."

I saw his hands tighten on the steering wheel, and couldn't stop myself from smiling. I had to admit, I liked Alcide's jealous streak. It was primal, needy, and downright sexy. Don't get me wrong, he wasn't one of those jealous guys that hit things or yelled, but it was nice to know that he wanted me enough to be jealous of other men.

"Don't worry," I continued. "It was just breakfast. I didn't forget our conversation."

"Good." He looked over at me and nodded slightly. "What did Mr. Interesting have to say for himself? Let me guess. He ate a big bowl of oatmeal and had exactly 2.5 cups of coffee?"

"He's interesting!" I insisted. It was true. Kind of. But he did eat oatmeal, just like he did every time we'd ever had breakfast together. There was something to be said for routines. At least the old me thought so.

Had I changed so much in a matter of weeks? Did this man have such a sway over me that I would completely change my views? No. Of course he didn't. Maybe I was just more observant than I had been. And there was nothing wrong with having a plan.

"He's not," Alcide said with a chuckle. "Hell I'd rather watch paint dry than have a conversation with Bill Compton."

"Yet you work for him, and have done so in the past?"

He shrugged. "It's my Dad's call who we work for. I just follow orders."

"You're the worst person ever at following orders," I said with a laugh. "And I should know."

"You can order me around any time you want." I scoffed. "What? Next time I get you naked, you can tell me exactly what to do and I'll do it. I reckon I'd rather enjoy having you take charge. In fact, I insist upon it."

"You're incorrigible."

"Yes'm I am," he said with a laugh. "Tell me, did Bill ask where you got off to last night?"

"Yes he did." A look of pure satisfaction passed over Alcide's face.

"And what did you tell him?"

"I told him that you and I had some business to take care of."

"And we did take care of it," he said. "Though tell me, what kind of business did you tell him we had to take care of at nine o'clock at night? Seems a bit late to be visiting your contractor."

"I told him that we had to go over some last minute plans before my meetings today."

"And he believed you?" he asked, looking over at me. I nodded. "What an idiot."

I had been surprised myself that Bill had bought that, but I wasn't going to complain. What did bother me, however, was how much Alcide seemed to dislike Bill. "What's the deal with you and Bill?"

"What do you mean?"

"You clearly have no respect for him. Why do you dislike him so?"

"Let's just say we have a history," Alcide said, setting his jaw in a firm line.

"Really? You're going to leave it at that? Not even a hint of the cause of animosity?"

"Sookie; baby. I don't reckon we need to know everything about each other. If I recall, that wasn't exactly part of our arrangement."

"Of course not," I said, turning to look out the window. Way to throw it back in my face.

He was right. Of course he was right. Knowing about each other's past would just complicate things. I didn't need to know why he disliked Bill to carry on the relationship we'd started. It was about one thing, and one thing only. Sure it may be exclusive fucking, but that hardly made it anything beyond just that.

"Aw, don't be upset." His voice was low and washed over me in a sensual wave; I felt my muscles relax.

"I'm not upset," I said, turning to face him as much as my seatbelt would allow. "I was just curious. But we all know curiosity killed the cat and I'm not eager to be the cat as far as you're concerned."

"Really?" he said, turning his head towards me as he pulled in a parking space in front of the restaurant. "You don't want to be my little kitty?"

"Not especially."

"And here I was looking forward to a tongue bath from you."

I rolled my eyes and unbuckled my seatbelt. "Do you ever think about anything other than sex?" I may have had a hard time with that myself, but I was at least better at hiding it. I couldn't help but taunt him a little about it.

"Not when you're around," he said honestly. "How long is this meeting here going to take?"

I laughed at the look of pain on his face. "Alcide, it's just the landscaper. We'll talk about some manly trees along with the flowers, so it's not total torture for you."

"I don't give a fuck who it is." When I raised my eyebrows in question, he continued. "Princess, every minute I'm with you and I'm not touching you is torture. The sooner we can get this over with, the sooner we can go back to your hotel and try out that big shower of yours."

"My hotel?" I asked, with a laugh. "Why not your house?"

"Cause Princess," he lowered his voice and leaned across the seat, "your hotel is just down the street, and I don't think I can make it all the way back to the suburbs without having you."

"Well, when you put it like that," I said with a giggle, opening the door to the truck. "I say we claim food poisoning and get the hell out of there after appetizers."

"That's my girl," he said, throwing his head back in laughter.

* * *

Thanks as always to sunkisz for being a fabulous beta, and special thanks to pfloogs72 for being my test reader! If you aren't reading their stories, you should definitely be doing so.


	14. Chapter 14

Shut up, girlfriends from the past.

~Jemaine Clement, FOTC

**Chapter 14**

**APOV**

I rolled over in my sleep, my arm reaching out for something it didn't find. My eyes peeled open and it took me a minute before I remembered why I couldn't find what I was looking for. I was sleeping alone. Sookie was in her neat little white bed in her hotel room. Alone. I frowned and looked at the red display from my alarm clock. It was five in the morning.

Well, at least I'd managed to sleep that long. Most of the nights I'd spent alone had resulted in much earlier wake ups. I sat up and swung my legs over the side of my bed. The alarm was set to go off in fifteen minutes anyway, so I might as well make the most of it. There was no point in lazing about in bed by yourself. If Sookie had been there? Well, that would be a different story entirely.

She'd loosened up a few times on her no sleepover on school nights rule, and I'd persuaded her a handful of times to break it. However, no matter how hard I tried last night to get her to come over and stay, she'd held her ground. To her credit, today was a big day. But I would have given her the chance to sleep. I think.

I was on the road and at Belle Rive by a quarter to six. I was as full hour ahead of schedule, but there was still plenty to do. We'd managed to make up most of the lost time through some innovative planning and long hours – two things that Sookie and I both believed in. It was nice to be alone in Belle Rive, to walk about the place and inspect the work we'd done without the distraction of the men, or more importantly, Sookie Stackhouse. I did a pretty good job of pushing her to the back of my mind while we were working, but there was only so much I could do when I caught a whiff of her perfume, or saw her legs as she descended the stairs.

We had three weeks to go. That meant three more weeks of hard work, and three more weeks of Sookie in my bed. I tried not to think about what would happen when our time was up and the house was finished, but that became harder as the end loomed nearer.

I heard the crunch of gravel as a vehicle made its way towards the house and looked out the window to see Sookie's gold SUV. She was thirty minutes early herself. Looked like she wasn't able to sleep in so much after all. I watched as she hopped out of the vehicle, running her hand over her skirt to smooth out the wrinkles, much like she always did. She pulled her satchel out of the back, tucking a stray hair behind her ear that had escaped the efficient bun at the nape of her neck.

I was waiting at the door when she made her way up the steps of the veranda, leaning against the doorjamb as I waited for her to spot me.

"Oh!" she said, nearly dropping her satchel when she did see me. "What are you doing here?"

"I couldn't sleep," I said, pushing myself away and taking a step towards her. "Something was missing from my bed."

She smiled and shook her head. "Your security blanket perhaps? Maybe your cuddle bear?"

"Hmmm, something like that." I closed the gap between us and lifted her face up to meet mine. "How'd you sleep?" I could see the bags under her eyes – yes, they were well disguised with her perfect makeup, but you didn't sleep with someone every night for three weeks and not know when they were tired.

"I slept…" she trailed off. "Okay."

"You don't look like you slept much at all," I stated, matter-of-factly.

"Aren't you just charming Mr. Herveaux?" she asked with a laugh. "Don't you know you're not supposed to tell a lady that she looks tired? It's almost as bad as asking how old she is, or how much she weighs."

"I know how old you are, and I have a pretty good idea of how much you weigh, since you've been wrapped around me quite a few times." No response. "Are you nervous about today?"

"I wouldn't say nervous." She shrugged and took a few steps back. "I'm confident in my work. But I'd be a fool if I wasn't a bit anxious about such a big event."

"He's just a man," I said.

"A man with a lot of money and a lot of influence in my industry," she said. "Copley Carmichael could make me famous, or he could end my career. Simple as that."

"He's not going to end your career."

"Okay, maybe not end my career, but if he doesn't like what we've done and it gets out, well, let's just say it'd be a career-limiting experience."

I walked back until I was standing in front of her and wrapped my arms around her loosely, looking down into her eyes. "Copley's a nice enough guy," I said. "I wouldn't have asked him to come see the job unless I believed in it."

"I can't believe you know him," she said, shaking her head but remaining in my loose embrace.

"Dad does really," I said with a shrug. "I've worked on a few jobs with him, and I've met his daughter Amelia a few times at various events."

She raised her eyebrows at me – Amelia's reputation certainly preceded her. Not to say she was known only for her sexual escapades, but she'd been embroiled in enough tabloid scandal that even a housewife in middle America had heard the name before.

"What?" I asked with a laugh. "I don't know her that well."

"Mmm hmm," she said with a hesitant nod, though the look in her eyes was wary.

"Why would you even care? It's not like we're dating, remember? You've made that very clear."

Temper flared in her eyes and she pushed out of my arms. "What about your ultimatum the other week, hmm? What about you saying that we can't sleep with other people when we're sleeping with each other?"

I shook my head in disbelief. Sookie was the one panting after someone else, not me. "I'm not fucking Amelia Carmichael, Sookie. I haven't even seen her in six months, and I wasn't fucking her back then either."

"I'm sorry," she said after a moment, shaking her head. "That was inappropriate. I don't know what came over me. I guess I'm more nervous than I thought."

Her apology, while nice, wasn't enough. She clearly had developed some sort of feelings for me if she was going to be jealous over an heiress with a reputation. Fuck if she'd admit that to me any other time though. I'm not saying that I wanted her to tell me she loved me. I knew better than that. But she was quick enough to brush my feelings aside when she brought up Bill Compton.

"Fuck that," I said. "You can get pissed off at the thought of another woman, but I don't even get to say anything about you running away with Bill next weekend?"

"We've been over this," she said with a sigh. We had. The conversation went something like _I'm going with Bill and there's nothing you can say_. Yes, great communication.

"Go to work Sookie." I turned around and stalked back towards my table. I'd have to let the steam out and quick. Copley and his crew were due here in less than two hours.

"Alcide," she said, running after me. "I said I was sorry."

"Sometimes sorry isn't enough Sookie."

"Don't do this to me," she said, sounding desperate. "I can't have you mad at me on a day like this."

"I'm not mad at you," I said, and sat down at my workstation. "But you should know by now that I'm not like the other men you've been with that can be whipped around and pranced about on a leash."

She was silent for a moment and then nodded. "I know you aren't."

"Fine." It wasn't, but it would have to do for now. The sound of my crew's voices carried from outside where they were just starting to arrive. "What do you need us to do before Copley gets here?"

She stared at me, looking almost confused before Power Sookie came back to the surface. She gave me a list that was much longer than we could possibly accomplish in ninety minutes, but somehow we managed to get most of it done when my cell phone went off and I saw my Dad's number flash across the caller ID.

"Hey," I said, pressing the phone in my ear to hear over the buzz of the saw in the background.

"Hi Alcide," Dad said, his tone as friendly as usual. That was a good sign, particularly when there was a potential client involved. That meant things were going well, not that I would have doubted it with Copley. Dad and Copley had met at a conference down in New Orleans when I was ten years old and hit it off immediately – two wealthy men in Louisiana in complimentary industries. It made business and personal sense to get friendly, and it didn't hurt that they had similar personalities. "Cope and I are about a mile away. You guys ready for the tour?"

"Sure thing. See you in a few."

"What was that?" Sookie asked, her voice much closer than I expected. I turned around and sure enough, she was within an arm's length.

"That was Dad. They'll be here in five." I saw the look of panic cross her eyes before her sheer determination wiped it clean. I reached out and rubbed her bare arm. She looked beautiful today – not that she looked anything less on any other day – but today she'd dressed with care, looking utterly feminine, but ready to play in a man's world. No one would doubt her authority. "It's going to be fine. You'll be great."

She smiled and nodded. "Just nerves."

"I know." I wrapped her in my arms, brushing my lips across the top of her head before she could stop me. I stepped back and squeezed her hand before anyone could see us. "Come on."

We stepped out onto the verandah and watched as Dad's big, black Escalade made its way down the graveled drive to Belle Rive. I heard Sookie take a deep breath as they pulled to a stop, and I shot her an encouraging smile before I headed down the steps.

I was halfway to the car when I heard my name shrieked by a far too familiar voice before I was hit with a bundle of flying energy. "Alcide Herveaux!" Amelia Carmichael shrieked, wrapping her skinny arms around me like she wanted to consume me. That assessment probably wasn't too far off if her past behavior was any indication.

"Hey Amelia," I said, trying to tactfully push her away as I looked over my shoulder at Sookie. She did not look amused. I hadn't lied. I had never slept with Amelia Carmichael. I just hadn't told her that it wasn't for lack of trying on Amelia's part. How was I supposed to know that she'd be in Bon Temps with her dad today?

"You look good enough to eat Alcide," she said, devouring me with her eyes. She lowered her voice so that only I could hear it and continued. "And that offer still stands."

I laughed and took a step back, turning to face Copley who was standing on my other side with an amused look on his face. "Good to see you Alcide," he said, extending his hand. "You'll have to forgive Amelia. She seems to lose her manners every now and then." If only he knew.

Amelia pouted and crossed her arms. "I'm just excited to see him. It's been ages, Daddy."

"I know it has pumpkin," he said dismissively before turning back to me. "Jackson's been telling me what a bang up job you're doing with this place. Is it true that you've gutted the whole thing and the whole project is only six weeks?"

"Eight really," I said with a shrug. "We've got three weeks to go."

"That's impressive," he said with a shake of his head. "If only I had you and your crew on the project I'm working on in New Orleans. Those guys don't know their head from a hole in the ground. Ten weeks behind and no end in sight."

"Well thank you, Sir," I said. "But I've got to tell you, we couldn't have done it without the project manager Bill Compton hired."

Copley raised his eyebrows. "So you said. Where is this Susannah Stackhouse? I imagine a woman that can whip men into shape like that must be a bull, eh?" It was true, Copley Carmichael hadn't gotten the memo about political correctness, at least not in his line of business. His women sat around and were pampered; proof positive in his daughter.

I turned around and motioned for Sookie to come over. She was hidden in the shadows of the verandah. I heard Copley swear under his breath when she stepped out into the sunlight. "Well I'll be darned," he said with a low whistle. "I certainly didn't expect her to look like that." I hadn't either.

"Susannah," I said when she reached us. "This is Copley Carmichael. Copley, Susannah Stackhouse." She reached her hand out, which Cope took with an amused smile.

"Nice to meet you Miss Stackhouse."

"Ms," she corrected.

"Ms. Stackhouse then," he said, clearly amused. "This here's my daughter Amelia." Amelia scanned Sookie from head to toe and said hello with a shrug. Sookie responded with a much more polite greeting before turning back to Copley.

"It's an honor to meet you Mr. Carmichael."

"It's Copley," he said with a smile. Good. Copley was quick to judge, and apparently Sookie had passed his initial tests.

"Copley," she said, testing the name out. "I've admired your work from a distance for years."

"Thank you," he said, looking over his shoulder at Dad. "Jackson, you didn't tell me that Ms. Stackhouse here was such a charmer."

Dad laughed and stepped forward. "She's a gem," he said with a wink in Sookie's direction. "I'm hoping we can steal her down from Boston a few more times in the near future."

Sookie beamed at him, glancing over at me with sparking eyes. "I'd be honored, Jackson. Herveaux and Sons has been good to me."

"Are we going to stand around outside all morning?" Amelia interrupted, clearly upset that the attention was off of her. "I'm not used to being in the backwoods. Are there gators or something I need to worry about?"

"Of course not," I said. "Shall we go inside?"

"Oh yes!" Amelia said, looping her arm through mine. "I want you to show me exactly how you get the job done, Alcide." Her voice was laden with innuendo, which I shrugged off. There wasn't a point in correcting her; it didn't make a difference.

"Would you do me the honor, Ms. Stackhouse?" Copley asked Sookie, offering her his arm. She looked at me with amusement before nodding.

"Susannah," she said, taking his proffered arm. "And I would love to."

We spent the next thirty minutes going over every inch of the house, looking at pictures of the before state and examining the work that had been completed. Or, I should say, that's what Sookie, Cope and Dad did. I spent the time fending off Amelia's advances and keeping her hands away from my ass, where they tended to stray. And pinch.

"Want to give me a private tour of the bathroom?" she asked when we were far enough behind the rest of them. "Maybe show me how the shower works?"

"You should know how a shower works, Amelia," I said.

"I could use some help washing my hair though," she said, rubbing her body along mine. "Don't you want to get me wet?"

I shook my head. "We've been through this Amelia."

She stuck her lip out and looked up at me from beneath her lashes. "What? Am I not good enough for you Alcide?"

"That's not it, and you know it," I said. Though, in honesty, that was part of it. Who wants something everyone else has had their hands on? "Our parents are friends. I've known each other since I was ten."

"That didn't stop you in Pam's pool house," she said defiantly. "Or the two weeks after that when I was your girlfriend."

"You were never my girlfriend. And that was seventeen years ago Amelia," I said, recalling the incident. "I was fifteen years old. I would've made out with anyone who was willing. It doesn't count."

"It does," she said, stepping close to me. "You seemed to want to do more than make out then, and we probably would have if Pam's mom hadn't caught us. I want you Alcide. I wanted you then, and I want you now. That hasn't changed."

I heard Sookie's voice from inside the master bedroom and stepped out of Amelia's reach. "We've got to go. They'll wonder where we are."

"Let them wonder," she insisted.

"No," I said firmly, and made my way into the bedroom. Sookie flashed an amused glance in my direction, though her eyes said something else entirely.

"I can't believe you two have accomplished all of this," Cope said, looking up at me as I walked through the door. "You do great work together."

"Yes we do," I said with a smile in Sookie's direction. That was an understatement. "It was Susannah's vision. I'm just the muscle."

Dad looked back and forth between the two of us and raised his eyebrows at me. It wasn't like me to be humble about the work I completed. I was damned good at what I did, and I wasn't afraid to let everyone know about it.

"That's not true," Sookie piped in. "While I had a lot of ideas, Alcide has helped me work through the practicalities. He's the muscle, sure, but he's also part of the brain trust."

Well shit, if he hadn't been onto us before, Sookie's declaration would definitely clue Dad in that something else was going on. I only hoped Cope and Amelia didn't sense it. That wouldn't be good for our reputations, though Sookie's would definitely be affected more than mine.

"Well," Cope said, turning to face Sookie. "No matter which way you skin the cat, you two have done something great here. I'm hoping I can convince you to do some work for me down the line." He looked over at me. "Both of you."

"I'd be honored," Sookie said, giving him one of her mega-watt smiles. The thought of working with Sookie again brought a smile to my face. Maybe we could work out a longer project next time; out of town. Hell, we could save the cost and share a hotel room. I was imagining what it'd be like to wake up to Sookie every day when Sookie cleared her throat loudly. My eyes snapped up to meet hers, and she was clearly amused by my daze.

"Excellent," Cope said. "I'll have my assistant contact you. Jackson, you name the price and we'll make sure it gets done. Sometimes it's worth the cost to get something extra special like the two of you."

Sookie looked over at me, the excitement crystal clear on her face. I'd never her seen her like this, well not outside of the bedroom. She looked like a child that just met Santa. I met her smile with one of my own.

"I hate to say this, but we really need to go if we're going to make it back to Shreveport in time for your next meeting," Dad said, turning to face Cope.

"Of course," Cope said. He took a step forward and shook Sookie's hand. "I can't say I was expecting this when Jackson asked me to come out and see the property, but I'm glad I took the time. You've got a bright future Susannah."

"Thank you," she said, with almost a simper. Sookie Stackhouse simpering. I never thought I'd live to see the day.

As Copley was saying his goodbyes to the crew, Amelia took the opportunity to corner me.

"Do you have a girlfriend, Alcide?" she asked, stepping so close to me that I could feel the heat of her skin.

"No," I said. Technically I didn't. And it wasn't lying, since she hadn't asked me if I was sleeping with anyone.

"Mmm," she purred. "Well I'm sure I'll be real lonely up in my hotel room by myself. And since it's so hot, I don't think I'll be able to wear a stitch of clothing. I just hate getting all hot and sweaty by myself. It's much better with a partner, don't you think?"

My eyes darted up to find Sookie, hoping that she hadn't overheard Amelia's proposition. I let out a sigh of relief when I spotted her deep in conversation with my father and Copley.

"I said no Amelia. I meant it."

She shrugged. "I never take no for an answer Alcide. And I _always_ get what I want. Here," she said, handing me a credit card. "I had an extra key made for you. You change your mind, you just let yourself in. You never know what you'll find me doing." She reached around me and patted my ass before turning around and walking over to her father.

I looked down at the key in my hand and let out a groan. The Carmichaels were staying at the same hotel Sookie was staying at. Looked like Sookie would definitely be spending the night at my house tonight, no chance I'd risk getting caught by Amelia if she spotted me there.

As soon as the Escalade was out of sight, Sookie turned to me and threw her arms up in the air. "I can't believe it! I can't believe that Copley Carmichael wants me to work for him!" she shrieked.

"Believe it," I said with a smile. "I told you he'd like you."

She shook her head. "I know you did. It's still a bit much to comprehend. This could be huge for my career. Huge. I haven't broken into the Southern markets much. Bill has introduced me to a few people and I've gotten a job here and there, but nothing major. If I can work for Carmichael, that's a whole new slew of opportunities."

"We should celebrate," I said. She looked up at me and raised her eyebrow in question. "Tonight. Let's go out and celebrate. It's Friday night. Let's have dinner."

"We aren't supposed to go on dates, Alcide," she said, looking uncomfortable. "It was part of the deal. And with Copley in town, well… I wouldn't want anyone to think we're anything but professional."

"Princess, we are much more than professional. I'd say we're about as intimate as two people can get. But it's not a date." It was. "Think of it as a business dinner. You'd go out to a business dinner to celebrate a new venture, wouldn't you?"

She bit her lower lip and nodded. "I suppose so…"

"Then what's the issue?"

"I guess there isn't one."

"Good," I said with a nod. "Seven o'clock. I'll pick you up at your hotel. Bring clothes for tomorrow."

"I thought you said it wasn't a date."

"It isn't," I said. "Dinner is business. After dinner? You're coming to my house and we'll celebrate in a different fashion entirely. No clothes necessary."

"Why Mr. Herveaux, are you trying to seduce me?"

"Princess, as a wise man once said, 'Do or do not. There is no try'."

**AN: **Who loves Star Wars? I do! I do!

If you love Alcide, you should go read **slackerdee**'s Secrets That Kill. It's promising to be a fun and bumpy ride!

In the meantime, wow… a jealous Sookie. Who woulda thought?


	15. Chapter 15

If you hit a home run, you can take your time running the bases.

~Casey Stengel

**Chapter 15**

**SPOV**

I looked in the mirror for the hundredth time. Each time I looked, I found a new flaw – I'd changed my dress seven times; had my hair up, down, straight, curly; changed the color of my lipstick time and again. I needed to stop, to accept my appearance and move on with it. It wasn't as if Alcide hadn't seen me before – I'd only left him two hours ago.

But this was different. I had never gone on a date with him.

_Crap_.

A date. For as much as I liked to tell myself that it wasn't a "date", even I didn't believe it. And there was something about going out to dinner with the man that I was sleeping with that put me on edge.

My cell phone rang, and Alcide was on the other end telling me that he was outside waiting. We'd both agreed that he shouldn't come in to get me since the Carmichaels were both staying at this hotel, and the last thing I wanted was for Copley Carmichael to think I was sleeping with Alcide. Even if I was. Maybe _especially _because I was.

I checked the door to my hotel room behind me, ensuring that the lock clicked since it wasn't likely that I'd be returning to my room for a few days, and began walking towards the elevator with my overnight bag in hand.

"Going somewhere Miss Stackhouse?" a voice asked from behind me. I whirled around to see Amelia Carmichael with her soccer mom haircut standing in a doorway at the end of the hall. "Looks serious," she continued, advancing upon me.

"This?" I asked with a nervous laugh, raising my overnight bag and thanking God I only had my work satchel to pack. She nodded. "I was just headed to do some work."

"Dressed like that?"

She had a point. While the dress I was wearing could be worn to work, I thought most clients would frown upon the length and cut of the dress. It was tight enough that it left very little to the imagination, which had been the purpose of wearing it. Might as well play the game if I was on the team, right?

"Yes," I said.

"Interesting choice." She stopped when she was standing in front of me. "And French perfume? Why, I'd say you were going on a date if I didn't know better."

I laughed. "I am not going on a date." It was true. Kind of.

She switched tactics, stopping all pretense. "Just how well do you know Alcide?"

"I work with him on a daily basis."

"Yes, but how well do you _know _him?" She was insinuating something alright; something I wasn't about to give an inch on.

"He's an excellent worker, and a pleasure to work with. Beyond that, I can't say I know much about Alcide Herveaux."

She looked at me carefully before smiling. "Yes, I don't suppose you're really his type, are you?" I cocked my eyebrow at her. It almost made me laugh how easily she dismissed me. "You're quite pretty, but much, much too cold for a man like Alcide. He likes his women with a little more fire. A little more energy."

"Yes, well, not really my concern," I shot a glance at the elevator behind me. "Now I hate to be rude, but I must be going."

Before she could say anything else, I turned around and made my way to the elevator, which was thankfully there as soon as I hit the button. I let out a sigh of relief only when the doors closed behind me. As amusing as her stance was, it had been nerve wracking. I wasn't a good liar by any means, Lafayette called me the worst liar ever. If I'd given any clue about where I was really going, if she'd been a little more adept at reading body language, my cover would be blown.

"It wasn't," I whispered to reassure myself. No one was the wiser. I needed to accept that it wasn't and move forward with the evening.

Alcide had driven his small silver sports car to pick me up. I had seen it in his garage, though I'd never seen it in action before. I almost missed him sitting in the driver's seat as I scanned for his black truck, and laughed to myself when I did spot him. It looked like he was as eager to remain undercover as I was.

I sauntered over to his car and let myself into the passenger door, turning to face him when I was settled in my seat.

"Good evening Alcide," I said with a smirk.

"Evening Princess." His eyes were roaming the neckline of my dress, dipping occasionally to take in the expanse of thigh exposed beneath the short hemline. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" He leaned over the seat and ran his lips over my bare neck, the hint of stubble sending delicious sensations across my body.

"Is that how you greet all of your business partners?" I asked sardonically.

"If they look as good as you, and feel as good next to me naked as you do, then sure," he said, sitting back in his seat and starting the engine. He pulled out of the hotel and onto the street before continuing. "Nice dress."

"Yes, Amelia certainly seemed to think so."

I laughed as he stiffened next to me, his attention diverted from the road. "Amelia Carmichael?"

"Yes," I said, "she stopped me in the hallway. Asked me if I was going on a date."

"And you told her…"

"The truth," I said with a shrug, though he couldn't see it. "I told her that I was going to do some work." I paused for a moment. "Of course, I didn't tell her that I would be spending the night at your house after we talked shop. But then again, she didn't ask me where I was planning on sleeping."

"Are you planning on sleeping, Princess?"

"Not very much," I said. "I never seem to get much sleep when you're around."

"No, you don't, do you?" he asked, turning onto a quiet street I hadn't seen before. "I can't really help you with that though."

"Oh you can't?"

"Nope," he said with a shrug, turning into the parking lot of what looked like a private residence. "I'm contractually obligated to keep you satisfied."

"Yes, well you do quite a good job of it." I looked at the building in front of us in puzzlement. He wouldn't take me to a dinner party, right? That wasn't something you took your co-worker to for celebrating, was it? "Where are we?"

"DeCastros," he said, hopping out of the car and walking around to open my door. He offered me a hand out of the car, which was much appreciated given the length of my skirt and the low center of the vehicle in question. "It's a hidden gem. Only the locals know about it."

He tucked my hand into the crook of his arm and led me through the French double doors of the main entrance. There was a small, dark man waiting on the other side, whose face broke out into a smile when he saw us. "Mr. Herveaux!" he said, coming forward with his hands extended.

Alcide introduced me to the owner and proprietor of the restaurant, Felipe de Castro. I peered past him to the empty dining room and wondered how good it could be if it was empty at 7:30 on a Friday night.

Felipe asked us to follow him to a table, and we walked behind him in companionable silence towards the small candlelit table. "When I got the call from Mr. Herveaux asking to rent the restaurant out for the evening, I tell you, it was panic." Felipe pulled a chair out for me to sit in, and continued as he placed the napkin across my lap. "But for Mr. Herveaux, it was worth it, even if those with reservations didn't like it so well." I looked across the table at Alcide, who was avidly trying to avoid my gaze.

After introducing us to our server, Felipe disappeared, leaving us alone in the intimate room. "Renting out the entire restaurant?" I asked with a smirk. "Are you ashamed of me Mr. Herveaux?"

He shook his head and chuckled. "Far from it Princess. I thought this would be a good compromise on your rule. We're out in public, but no one we know will possibly see us."

"Good thinking," I replied. Though, truth be told there was a small part of me that wanted to be out with him at a normal dinner in a normal restaurant. Being in this intimate of a setting would make it much more difficult to keep the boundaries in place. I scanned the interior of the intimate restaurant, noting the extravagant art work on the walls. This wasn't your neighborhood joint. "You must have some hidden connections."

He shrugged and took a drink of his water. "I'm owed a few favors here and there," he said.

"Impressive," I said. And it was. De Castros looked expensive and exclusive. Renting it out at the last minute couldn't have been easy.

"It's nothing," Alcide said, smiling as our waiter returned to fill our wine glasses and take our orders. After he cleared the room, Alcide tipped his glass in a toast and took a long sip of the red liquid. "I spoke to Dad tonight," he said.

"And?" I asked.

"And Copley was very impressed with you." I felt a shiver run down my spine. It wasn't every day a man as influential as Copley Carmichael came across your path, much less liked the path you were cutting out of the brush. He was a huge developer in the South, known for his mix of old world aesthetic and new world convenience. While his primary focus was reconstruction after New Orleans, his team did projects around the world, and being hired as one of his subcontractors was something akin to winning an Oscar. His properties had been in Architectural Digest too many times to count. Just his name alone was enough to send people in my field scurrying at a frenzied pace. "He wanted a biography on you to put on file with his board. He said that you are just what Louisiana needs to finish reconstruction."

"Oh my God," I said, trying not to hyperventilate, or to jump out of my chair and kiss Alcide. I doubted he would mind the second, but since this was technically a business dinner, it didn't seem that appropriate. "I don't know what to say."

"Thank you tends to work pretty nice in these types of situations.

"Thank you. Thank you! Thank you!" I practically screeched. I never would have thought that Alcide Herveaux would play a pivotal role in my company's business, or my career, but it was looking more and more like he would.

Alcide let out a hearty laugh and reached out to cover my clasped hands with one of his. His eyes turned serious, almost somber. "You deserve it Sookie," he said. "I wouldn't have introduced you to him unless I thought you would be up to snuff."

"And I'm sure sleeping with you gave me a slight edge," I teased, uncomfortable with the earnest look on his face. We'd not really had serious conversations, apart from the few fights we'd had over Bill.

"I wouldn't introduce you to someone of his stature just because I like seeing you naked," he said. "Though I do like seeing you naked. You do beautiful work. I've never worked with anyone quite like you, and I mean that in a good way. You deserve a little more exposure."

"Alcide," I said breathlessly.

"You don't have to say anything," he interrupted. "In fact, I don't want you to say anything. This isn't a night to be serious. We're here to celebrate your success." He raised his wine glass and indicated for me to follow suit. "To teamwork," he said.

"To teamwork," I said, though with less conviction. Every minute I spent with Alcide on a personal level, every new fact I learned about him, only made me like him more. I couldn't imagine leaving in three weeks and never seeing him again, even though I knew there wasn't anything else that could be done about it. If Copley Carmichael wasn't joking, if he wanted us to work together on one of his projects, I'd see him again. I just didn't know when, or what would change between us. I forced myself to smile as I squared my shoulders. He was right, this wasn't a night to be thinking serious thoughts. Tonight I would enjoy the company of the handsome man across the table from me, no matter how it might end.

.

I woke up at eight am on Saturday morning, entwined in the dark sheets that covered Alcide's bed. Only, Alcide wasn't next to me. I sat up slowly and looked around the room, slivers of light seeping out the edge of the dark drapes. The sheet fell, exposing my breasts to the cool air of the room and I wished that Alcide was there to help warm me up. I listened closely for any sign of his presence, but heard nothing.

I eased out of the large bed, padding across the room and opening the door to the hallway. I made my way towards the kitchen, assuming I'd find him in there – hoping I'd find him in there. What better way to greet him than naked and freshly awake?

I frowned slightly when he wasn't there, and let out a sigh of frustration when I had a wander about the rest of the house to the same result. I made my way back towards the kitchen, where I'd deposited my purse and therefore my phone and found a note sitting and waiting for me.

_Sookie –_

_Didn't want to wake you. I had to head out to a last minute baseball game with Dell. Swing by if you want. No one you know will be there._

_~A_

He'd drawn a makeshift map on the bottom of the note, and had left the keys to his silver car on the counter. Baseball wasn't typically my type of thing, but the thought of Alcide running around getting hot and sweaty was almost too much to pass up. Besides, if no one we worked with would be there, what was the harm?

I hopped into the shower and readied myself, wondering why Alcide hadn't bothered to tell me he had plans this morning. I had plenty to do without being trapped in his house without a vehicle, though if I were being honest, there was something enticing about spending a weekend away from being able to work.

I dressed in the most casual outfit I'd packed, which was by no means casual enough to go to a baseball game. The white linen skirt and navy blue sleeveless shell weren't so bad, but my shoe options consisted of the sky high strappy gold shoes I'd worn last night, or my go-to tan Louboutins (I'd replaced them after the mud incident). Thankfully Shreveport hadn't seen any rain recently, so I hopefully wouldn't be losing this pair to the weather.

The park they were playing in was nearby. It probably would have been a two minute drive if I hadn't gotten turned around, but either way I made it there in ten minutes and pulled into the paved parking lot. There were a dozen fields, all buzzing with activity as I stood lost, trying to figure out which Alcide was playing on.

"Susannah?" a female voice called out from behind me. I whipped around to see Alcide's sister Janice standing by the concession stand, her arms full of cotton candy and pop - coming towards me. A smile broke out across her face. "I thought that was you."

"Hi Janice," I said with a nervous smile. I hadn't expected to see anyone I knew – though, I guess you could say I didn't really know Janice.

"Alcide said you might be stopping by," she said with a smile. "Did you drive his roadster over?"

I looked behind me at the silver car I'd parked near the front and shrugged. "Um, yes. My rental needed to be turned in for the weekend, so Alcide kindly offered me the use of his car."

Her eyes were filled with mirth, and I could tell she didn't believe me for a second, but she didn't say anything. "That was nice of him. You looked lost," she said.

I laughed nervously, and ran my hands down to smooth the front of my skirt. "I am," I admitted. "I have no idea what field they're on."

"I can't blame you. This park's a bitch," she said. "Come on, I'll show you." She turned around and the cups she was holding bobbled precariously in her hands.

"Oh!" I exclaimed, running to catch up with her. "Let me help." I grabbed the cotton candy and popcorn out of her hands before she could say anything.

"Thank you," she said with a genuine smile. "I never plan on getting so much, but when it's breakfast for the family, you get caught up."

I looked down at the popcorn and back up at her. "Lucky family," I said with a laugh. "My Gran always used to make us eat a full breakfast before we could leave the house. My friend Tara got to eat Lucky Charms; you have no idea how jealous I was."

Janice laughed and shrugged. "Why don't you tell that to Alcide? He's always giving me shit for feeding Tommy this way."

"I can imagine," I said. "He certainly is opinionated."

"You're telling me," she said, turning towards a nearby set of bleachers where I saw Tommy on the lap of an artificially platinum blonde. "I had to grow up with the guy, always nagging me, playing the role of big brother to a T."

Tommy let out a gurgled laugh when he saw his mom and reached his arms out towards her.

"Jarvice," Janice said to the blond. "This is Susannah Stackhouse. She's one of Alcide's co-workers. Susannah, this is Jarvice."

"Oh, call me Sookie, please," I said to Janice, before extending my hand in Jarvice's direction. "Nice to meet you."

"You too," Jarvice said, handing Tommy over to Janice and excusing herself to use the restroom.

I scooted in the bleachers next to Janice, brushing off the dirt from the metal seat as best as I could before sitting down. I looked up to find Janice's amused eyes on me.

"Alcide did tell you that you were going to a baseball game, right?" I nodded slowly. "Do you always dress like that?"

"Oh," I said nervously, looking at Janice's casual wear. Jeans, a t-shirt and flip flops were much better suited to a baseball game than my attire. "I don't really frequent baseball games much, so I wasn't sure what to wear."

Her body rocked with laughter. "I'm sorry. I'm being rude. But the thought of wearing those shoes to a baseball game – or at all really – is too funny. I can't even tell you the last time I wore heels. I'd probably break my ankle."

"They're not really that bad," I said, able to laugh with her. "You get used to them."

"I doubt it," she replied. "Do you own pants?"

"I do," I said with a laugh. "And you aren't the first Herveaux to ask me that."

"Alcide asked you to wear pants?" she asked with a look of shock when I nodded. "Then he's an idiot. With legs like yours, I'd expect every man to beg you to stay out of pants. Hell, the minute you walked up, the entire team looked over. Most of 'em can't stop looking at you."

My head snapped up and I saw a few eyes lingering over me, including Alcide's, which were practically molten as they looked at me. I felt myself blush and fidgeted to distract myself from the attention. "I didn't bring any pants with me," I said truthfully. "I hadn't planned on doing much of anything but working the entire time I was in Shreveport."

"You're here for six or seven weeks aren't you?" I nodded. "You weren't going to do anything for six or seven weeks other than work?"

"Well, I didn't really know anyone down here, and it's a very big project…" I trailed off. The old me would have had some snappy retort, but the new me could realize how ridiculous it was.

"What are you doing tonight?" she asked.

"What? Um. I don't really have plans." _Other than having sex with your brother._

"You're coming out with us," she said emphatically.

"Oh, I don't want to intrude."

"It wouldn't be intruding," she insisted. "There's a group of us that meets up once a month – Alcide included – and we get together for bowling and drinks. I know, I know, you don't have to say anything, bowling is a bit ridiculous, but it's fun." My eyes shot to the field, where Alcide had just caught a ball and made an out. "He won't care. And if he does, fuck him, right?"

"Right," I said. She had no idea how true that statement was.

"But we've got to go get you some pants. And some shoes," she said. "There's no way you can go bowling in that outfit."

And that is how I ended up leaving with Janice after the game, much to Alcide's chagrin. She rode with me to the mall, her husband Dell reluctantly agreeing to babysit Tommy so that Janice could get some shopping in.

"I never get to go shopping," she exclaimed with excitement as we walked through the doors of the mall. "This isn't a fancy mall like you're probably used to, but it's good for jeans and t-shirts, which is exactly what you need."

It was true that the shops I frequented were of a bit higher end than Dillards and Sears, but I couldn't tell you the last time I enjoyed a trip to the mall with a woman I genuinely liked. Sure, Lafayette liked to shop with me, but it wasn't the same camaraderie as going shopping with a girlfriend.

I pulled into Alcide's driveway two hours and $400 later, having dropped Janice off at her house with the promise to see her later that evening.

I rang the doorbell, and laughed when the door opened to reveal Alcide wearing the same clothes he'd been wearing on the baseball field. "Honey, I'm home," I said mockingly as I lifted the shopping bags. He took advantage of my full hands and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me in for a thorough kiss.

"I thought you'd never get back," he mumbled against my mouth.

"Looks like you've been busy." I laughed as he carried me into the house and kicked the door shut behind him. "You haven't even changed out of your workout clothes."

"I just got home myself," he said, nibbling my earlobe. "I saw the way you were looking at me on the field. Thought you'd like it if I worked up a good sweat, so I stayed and played another game, then ran a bit."

A shimmer of sweat glistened on his skin as he released me and took a step back. He pulled his shirt over his head in one swift motion and advanced on me as my eyes devoured his torso. The bags fell from my listless fingers and made a loud thump as they hit the ground. He really did have a beautiful body; I wasn't sure I would ever get enough, but that wouldn't stop me from trying.

"Mmm," I said, running my hands down his back. "I do like it when you're like this."

"I know." He leaned down and captured my mouth with his, licking the corners of my lips as he sought entrance. "I've wanted to do this since I saw you walking towards the field this morning," he said, pulling my shirt over my head and spinning me around roughly so that my back was to his front. He nibbled at my neck, his hands roaming over my exposed skin, stopping to toy with the lace edges of my bra.

"You looked so prim and proper," he whispered. "I just wanted to rough you up a bit. See if I could get you messy." I let out a whimper of satisfaction as he pulled at the zipper of my skirt and it fluttered to the floor. "The guys on my team were asking who you were," he continued. "I nearly had to punch John when he started going on about how hot you were."

His fingers danced across my hips and thighs, teasing my body as they worked their way up to the curve of my stomach. "I wanted to tell them you were mine."

I gasped when his hands cupped my breasts, pushing the fabric down. I wouldn't have thought that Alcide's possessive streak would affect me this way, but there was nothing I wanted more than for him to claim me. Right here. Right now.

"Is that what this is about?" I asked, my heavy breathing loud against the silence air.

"What?"

"Did you want me to come back so you could stake your claim on me?"

He paused, his hands stilling on my bare breasts. "I don't think I can answer that question, Princess. I don't think you'd like the answer."

"Try me," I taunted.

"Yes," he said raggedly.

I spun around, my chest brushing against his as I looked up into his eyes. "Then do it. Claim me."

He looked like a man being tortured as he stared down at me, weighing my words. "I'm not joking Alcide. I want you to take me. Right now."

He didn't need another prompt. He pulled me tightly against him, so close that I could feel how aroused he was from our interlude. His hands tugged at the elastic in my hair until it spilled out in golden waves over my naked shoulders. He buried one hand in it, angling my head for better access to his mouth while the other hand unhooked the clasp on my bra, leaving me standing in nothing but my shoes and underwear.

We were two feet inside the doorway, too eager to complete this to move further. He kicked out of his gym shorts as I removed the last scrap of fabric covering my body, our contact never broken. He charged at me like a man possessed, stopping only when my back was against the front door and his body was pressed into mine.

My hands roamed over his arms and back, exploring every muscle as his lips did wickedly delicious things to my neck. He grunted out my name as my hands travelled lower, my legs hitching up to wrap themselves securely around his waist. His lips came up to meet mine, his tongue mimicking the rhythm our bodies were making as they moved against one another.

"Oh God," I called out as his hand slipped between my body and found me ready and waiting. I panted against his neck, and elicited a groan from his lips as I bit down slightly as I came apart.

"Shit Sookie," he moaned, positioning himself at my entrance when my breathing returned to something akin to normal. "I didn't know you had that in you."

"There's a lot you don't know about me," I said, pushing my hips down against him as he eased inside of me. "That's just a preview of what's to come."

We moved against each other, the only communication we made came out in gasps and moans as we sought out the release that was promised, and when that release was reached, Alcide eased us to the floor.

"I think I'm going to have a mark," he said after a few minutes of silence.

"What?"

"Where you bit me. I think I'm going to have a mark."

I propped myself up on my elbow to examine his neck and giggled. "Mmm, yes, it does look like you're going to have a bruise there."

His fingers traced the edge of the bruise and he shook his head. "Guess I'm going to have to come up with some wild ass story about how that got there."

"You could always wear a scarf," I said solemnly. "Or you could tell everyone I gave it to you."

"Really?" he asked, looking at me warily. "You want me telling Hoyt that you bit me when I made you come?"

"No," I said, trying to suppress the laughter. "Tell him I hit you in the neck with a hammer when you got out of line."

He laughed and rolled me under him. "A hammer, eh?"

I nodded. "He's more likely to believe that then the truth."

"How about I give you one right back?" he asked, leaning over my neck. "Then he might believe it."

I squealed and tried to push him off me. "No! You wouldn't dare."

"Watch me," he answered, his lips lowering to my skin. He playfully nipped at my neck before his lips travelled lower, where he made true on his promise.


	16. Chapter 16

With enough courage, you can do without a reputation.

~Rhett Butler, Gone With the Wind

**Chapter 16**

**APOV**

"Are you coming out anytime soon?" I asked through the bathroom door. It was 6:45, and if we were going to make it to the bowling alley in time to meet with Janice and Dell, we had to get going. Sookie had locked herself in the bathroom with one of the bags she'd brought back from the mall thirty minutes ago. She'd been very secretive about her outing with Janice, hardly saying a word beyond that she'd learned some interesting things about my childhood. I didn't want to know.

"Almost!" she yelled back. I heard a crash, followed by a slew of curses from Sookie and couldn't help but laugh.

The door opened, and Sookie stepped out looking unlike anything I'd ever seen before. Gone were the tailored dresses, replaced by a pair of sinfully tight blue jeans and a t-shirt so thin I could see the outline of her bra.

"Is that what you're wearing?" I asked, eyeing the deep vee of her shirt. There was no way I would be able to pay attention to the game when she was dressed like that. Don't get me wrong, I appreciated her smart little business outfits, and the dress she'd worn to dinner the other night had nearly killed me. But this was something else entirely – it was like the last barrier had been stripped away and she wasn't hiding behind the icy wall anymore.

"Yes," she said with a smirk. "Don't you like it?"

"Spin around," I instructed, my voice sounding gruff even to myself.

She quirked her eyebrow, but did exactly as I asked.

"Princess, I wouldn't have thought you could look better than you did last night, but this might be my favorite."

"Better than this afternoon?" she asked. "I thought you said you liked me best in the shower."

"Yeah," I said and nodded my head. "Even better than in the shower."

She shook her head and laughed. "They're just jeans, Alcide."

"Umm mmm," I said, closing the gap between us and nuzzling her neck.

"I thought we were going to be late," she said.

"They can wait."

"No they can't!" she said, ducking out of my arms. "I am not going to walk in to a function with your _sister _late and looking freshly sexed, no matter how tempting the offer is. We don't need her knowing what's going on between us."

"I'm sure she knows exactly what's going on, Princess. I don't normally invite my coworkers to my baseball games; and I don't normally look at my coworkers like I want to fuck them."

A look of panic crossed her face. "Well," she said finally, "we don't need to give her evidence. She's your sister for Pete's sake!"

"My sister, who buys me boxes of condoms and tells me I need to get laid. I assure you, she would be thrilled if she knew what we had going."

"Either way," she said, sitting on the edge of the bed to pull on a pair of heels, "let's not give her a show."

"Fine," I said, watching in fascination as she continued to get dressed. "You're wearing those to go bowling?"

She looked up, continuing to buckle the tiny strap at her ankle. "What? You don't like my shoes? I thought you did…" she bit her lip and looked up at me coyly.

"Princess, you know how much I like when you wear those shoes, but they aren't exactly practical for bowling."

She stood up and laughed. "Alcide, unless some rules have drastically changed since I last went bowling in 1994, it doesn't matter what kind of shoes I wear to the bowling alley – they're going to make me wear those god-awful rentals anyway. I might as well look good walking in. I have to do something to keep your eye from wandering to the ball attendants," she added with a smirk.

"Good point," I said with a smirk, taking a step forward until the front of her shirt brushed against mine. "I do have a thing for those nifty little shirts with their name on them. And the shoe spray? It's like the finest perfume." I brushed my lips against her temple. "It's gonna take a lot more than a pair of heels to keep my attention Stackhouse. I hope you're up to the challenge."

"I never lose, Herveaux," she said. "And I _always _get what I want."

That was exactly what I was worried about.

.

I was making my way to the lanes with three beers in my hands when Janice finally managed to corner me. We'd been at the alley for thirty minutes, though we hadn't played our first game yet. We lived by the hard and fast rule that you had to oil up your joints with a few drinks before the game ever started.

"Just a coworker, eh?" she started off, pushing at my chest. It was playful enough that any onlookers would think she was joking, but hard enough to cause the beer to spill over the edges of the plastic cups and onto my rented green and blue bowling shoes.

"What the hell Janice?" I asked, none too happy that my hands would be sticky. I wondered if I could get Sookie to lick them clean and smiled to myself.

"Just a _coworker_?" she asked again.

"Uh… yeah. She's a coworker."

"My ass," she said. "I'm not an idiot Alc. You two are definitely more than coworkers."

I shrugged and grinned. I wasn't going to elaborate, but there was no point in denying it. Janice had a sixth sense about these kinds of things when it came to me; and yes, I knew exactly how disturbing that thought was.

"Oh!" Janice said, her eyes lighting up. "Oh, Dell is going to have to pay up alright! When is the man going to learn that I'm always right?"

"What? You and Dell had a bet on me and Sookie? What was it exactly?"

"Well, it's obvious from the way you two act that you're sleeping together. But Dell said you wouldn't admit it. And I bet him I could break you. Now he has to make dinner AND pick up Tommy all next week."

"You didn't 'break' me, Janice. I just don't see the point in pretending it's not more than that since you pretty much know already. So technically, you didn't win the bet."

"Technically I did, since you admitted it. But screw the bet, I'd make him do that anyway. Tell me what's up with you and Heels over there." She nudged her head in Sookie's direction.

"It's nothing," I said. My eyes darted towards the lane where Sookie was entertaining Dell and two of his single friends. Dell I didn't mind so much, but his friends? They were going to have to be straightened out.

"If it's nothing, why do you look like you want to rip out Cal and Kevin's hearts _Temple of Doom_ style for talking to her?"

"They're not talking to her. They're taking bets on what color her bra is. It's pink." I shook my head. "It's nothing. We're sleeping together. That's it. She can talk to anyone she wants; our only stipulation is that we don't sleep with anyone else when we're sleeping with each other."

"So you're not inviting Cal to your ménage a trios?" she asked with a smirk.

I rolled my eyes. "Definitely not. But that's not what I mean and you know it. We're serial monogamists. Fuck buddies."

Janice crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head. "Not buying it, brother. If you were fuck-buddies you wouldn't invite her to your baseball game, and certainly wouldn't bring her to something like this tonight."

She had a point there. "She's from out of town. She doesn't have any friends."

"Bull shit. You like her." I shrugged. "Don't get me wrong, I like her too, despite being so uptight. But you _like _like her."

"What is it with women repeating the same word twice and thinking it has a different meaning?"

"Stop trying to evade me Alc. It's not going to work. You like her as something more than a fuck buddy. Admit it."

"Okay, okay. I like her. She's fun to be around," I said.

"And…"

"And she makes me laugh."

"And…"

"And what?" I asked, running out of patience. "What do you want me to say? I admire her? Sure. I enjoy her company? Absolutely. I would rather have her alone at my house than here getting ogled by Dell's coworkers? You bet your ass."

"Oh my God!" she shrieked. "You loooovvvee her!"

"Do not," I said, a bit defensively. I didn't.

"Do too," she retorted.

"That's ridiculous. You don't fall in love with someone in four weeks Janice."

"You can. But how would you know? You've never been in love before Alcide."

"That's not true!" I insisted. This wasn't an argument I particularly wanted to be having anyway, but particularly not in the middle of a bowling alley.

"Pfft. Who have you loved? Maria Starr? You loved her ass and her legs. That's it. You couldn't stand the rest of her. You NEVER invited her to these kinds of things."

"She was a private person."

"Whatever." She rolled her eyes. "I'm not here to argue with you over your ex-girlfriends. Let's get back to you and Sookie. When did you realize you were in love with her?"

"I'm not in love with her Janice!" I exclaimed. "She's an attractive woman, who I happen to be sleeping with. She's going back to Boston in two and a half weeks. End of story."

"Oh," she said, biting her bottom lip. "I hadn't thought about that."

I nodded. That was the first thing I thought about.

"Well, you're just going to have to convince her to stay," she said, with a nod of her head.

"Hah. Good luck with that. It's not a big deal. We knew from the beginning that she was going to have to leave at some point. Why do you even care Janice?"

"Because I like her. She's the first girl I've known you to sleep with that hasn't made you miserable."

"She has her moments," I said, thinking back to how crazy she drove me while we were at Belle Rive.

Janice waved her hand dismissively. "We all have our moments. Hell, I don't like Dell most of the time, but I still love him." She smiled and waved in Dell's direction.

"Yeah, well you're married to him. I'm just sleeping with her. Big difference."

"Not really. It's the same basic concept. We just happen to have a piece of paper that makes half of his stuff mine." She reached out and grabbed one of the beers from me. "We should get headed back. Sookie looks like she's at her wits end."

I had to laugh when I looked in Sookie's direction. Kevin was standing close enough that his breath was causing the little wisps of hair to flutter across her cheeks. He was attempting to show her some bowling technique, of which it was quite obvious that she had no interest. His long, pale fingers brushed across the back of her hand, and I could feel the anger rolling off of her. She would eat Kevin alive and spit out his bones. He had no idea what was beneath that attractive package. Not like I did.

Sookie greeted me with a crazy smile when we got back – sweet enough looking, but almost a bit too bright. She was putting on a show, though I wasn't sure who her target audience was. She reached out and grabbed one of the beers from my hand, taking two large drinks before patting at the corner of her mouth and looking up at me.

"Did you get lost Robinson Crusoe?" she asked.

"What's that?"

She peered over my shoulder and then turned her gaze back to me. "Looks like it's a pretty straight shot to the bar. The rest of us found our way. I was just wondering what took you so long. Maybe we need to get you one of those Power Scooters."

I shook my head and looked down into her sparkling eyes. She wanted to play. I leaned forward, so close that my lips brushed against her ear. "Maybe. But only if you promise to sit on my lap like you did last night."

I pulled back and let out a satisfactory laugh when I saw the red creep up the plunging neckline of her t-shirt. It wasn't often that I could make the Ice Princess melt, but it was damn satisfactory when I did.

Her eyes darted around us, looking to make sure that no one had heard my suggestion. They hadn't. Everyone was too busy watching Janice and Dell argue over whose turn it was to care what I did with Sookie. Even Kevin had backed off when he saw me coming. Smart guy.

"Looks like Kevin liked you," I teased. "Maybe you should expand your horizons, get into the world of pasty, ginger computer programmers."

"He did ask for my number," she said. I felt my pulse accelerate before I had the chance to stop it. Of course he'd ask for her number; any red-blooded man would. She was smart, funny, beautiful… shit. I needed to stop thinking about her as anything but a good lay. It wouldn't do me any good to get wrapped up in liking Susannah Stackhouse.

"Looking for a change, Stackhouse?" I asked. "Am I not enough for you anymore?"

"Oh you're enough," she said. "Unless you're not up for it anymore?"

"I'm up for it." In fact, one of my body parts was trying to tell me exactly how up for it I was. "Name the time. Name the place. I'm there."

She laughed and turned around when Janice called her name. "You're up Stackhouse," Janice said, pointing at the green and pink swirled ball Sookie had picked. It looked like something a twelve year old girl would pick.

"Oh God," she groaned quiet enough that only I could hear. "Here goes nothing." She threw one quick smile in my direction before going to pick up her ball. She looked cute as she lined herself up, shifting from one foot to another and back as she raised the ball to her eyelevel. I couldn't see her, but I imagined she closed her eyes as she threw her ball. It was on course, at least mainly on course. She knocked two pins over.

She shook her head and turned around, shrugging at Kevin who was looking at her with stars in his eyes still.

"You'll get it next time," he encouraged.

"I doubt it," she said with a shrug, walking back over to sit next to me and take a drink of her beer. And she was right. I hadn't thought it was possible, but she got worse with every successive turn. By the time the last frame of the second game rolled around, she'd resorted to throwing the ball from between her legs – a position that emphasized the tightness of her jeans and increased the tightness of my own.

When she sat next to me, I leaned into her ear and whispered. "I thought you never lost Princess."

"Shut up," she grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest.

"What? You can't take the heat?"

She scowled at me and scooted farther away. I closed the gap again, not particularly caring who saw what we doing.

"Bowling is stupid," she said.

I threw my head back with laughter, causing more than a few pairs of eyes to look in my direction. "Just because you're not good at something doesn't make it stupid."

"That's not why bowling is stupid. It's a game where you throw a heavy ball at pins and knock them over."

"In theory, yes."

"Stupid."

"Are you two lovebirds ready to go?" Janice asked. I wondered how long she'd been standing there listening to us.

"Go where exactly?" Sookie asked, a hint of the pout still in her voice. I looked over and saw Sookie kick out of her bowling shoes and reach for her heels.

"Didn't Alcide tell you?" she asked, looking over at me. I shook my head. I wasn't sure Sookie would like the next stop on our monthly jaunt.

"No, he didn't," Sookie said, buckling her shoe. "Should I be afraid?"

"Not at all," Janice said, offering Sookie a hand to stand up. I shrugged and laced up my boots. There really wasn't a way to explain where we were going next; might as well let Janice try.

"It's tradition. We bowl, and then the loser has to buy us drinks at Josephine's all night."

Sookie looked over at me and scowled. "No. Alcide didn't see the need to tell me that."

"I'll buy," I said, standing up. It was the right thing to do. Sookie hardly knew these people; she shouldn't be responsible for footing their very expense bar tab.

"No. No," she said. "I can afford it. And I lost. All's fair."

Janice watched the standoff between us with amusement. "Look, I don't give a rat's ass who buys. I'm just happy it isn't me for once."

…

"Come on, Princess," I said once I was sure that the last man was out of the house. It was the morning before Sookie was flying back to Boston to be with Bill. We'd spent every night together leading up to tonight, and she'd been insisting on sleeping at her hotel tonight. "It's the last night we can spend together before Monday."

She looked at me warily and let out a resigned sigh. "I've got to pack still, and I don't think it's a good idea to keep going out in public like this. This would be the third time this week. What if someone sees us?"

"Fine," I said, "we don't have to go out to dinner. I'll get take out from that Thai place you liked so well. We can stay at the house the entire time; rent a movie or something. It can be as low key as you want."

"I don't really have time for it. My flight leaves at eight in the morning tomorrow."

"I'll come by and help you pack," I said. "My house is closer to the airport anyway, and I'll volunteer to be your personal alarm clock if you'd like."

She smiled and shook her head. "I need to sleep tonight Alcide. I haven't slept more than four hours at a time in weeks, and it's all your fault!"

"My fault?" I asked with a grin. "Are you saying you had no influence on our, um, waking activities?"

"I guess not," she said with a laugh. "But I know I'd get to sleep if I stayed in the hotel. Just like I know I won't get much sleep if I stay with you."

"Sure you would. But I'll let you sleep if you stay at the house. Scout's honor." I raised my hand in salute.

"Just sleep?"

"You didn't say just sleep Princess. I'm not about to let you leave me for three days without giving you a proper farewell. I need some memories to keep me warm at night while you're up North. A few of those screams of yours should do it."

She smiled and shook her head. "You're incorrigible."

"You can't pretend that you don't want the same thing, Princess. Not with me at least. I know you too well."

"Fine," she said with a huff. But if we're I agree to this, you're going to need to leave me alone so I can get everything done."

"As you wish," I said with a smirk.

I thought it might be a struggle to stay away from her all day. In the past week, we'd started this routine of dancing around each other on the job. She'd come to check on the crew's progress a few times a day, and I'd find a thousand reasons to run inside and ask her questions. But somehow we managed to keep our distance today. A big part of that was due to me being one man down and all of us having to double up to make sure the work was finished.

I hardly even noticed the day had gone by until Sookie came strolling out of the house at 4:30 to tell us she was headed out and would be back on Monday. I didn't say much as she waltzed to her gold SUV and backed up along the driveway. The men, however, were a little more vocal of their appreciation that they'd have a day away from her wrath. She hadn't been too bad really, but they were accustomed to my laid back management style, and even after four weeks, they hadn't really adjusted to her micromanagement.

I sent them home shortly after Sookie left, and stayed to finish up some of the budget paperwork. There was enough to keep me there all night, but I figured I'd be looking for things to occupy all the spare time I'd be having once Sookie left town.

She was done packing by the time I made it over to hotel, and had donned that pair of jeans I'd admired so much with some kind of sheer black shirt. The woman was going to drive me crazy. I could barely keep my hands off of her as it was, much less when she was wearing see-through clothing.

"Done already?" I asked, looking at the suitcase that was sitting, ready to go by the doorway.

She shrugged and went back to grab her jacket. "I've been here for an hour. That's plenty of time to pack, and it's not a huge deal if I forget something since I'm going home."

I tried to smile; really I did. But Sookie mentioning Boston as home made the conversation I'd had with Janice far too real. I'd been doing a good job ignoring the inevitable up to this point.

"You okay?" she asked, placing a concerned hand on my face.

"What?" I shook my head. "Yeah. Of course." I moved towards her, reaching out and pulling her against me. The scent of her perfume filled the air as I rested my chin against the top of her head.

"It's 6:15," I said. "We have plenty of time to spare before we need to get there. I can think of something we can do to fill the time, can you?" I asked, running my hands down her back and nipping at her earlobe.

She laughed and took a step backwards out of my reach. "There is plenty of time for that tonight, Alcide."

"But you said you wanted to sleep," I replied. "Remember? You have an early flight."

"So, you're saying that if we get it out of the way now, you're not going to try again later?"

"I never said that."

"Um hmm," she nodded, and walked over to pick up her suitcase. "That's what I thought. Come on. Pad Thai awaits."

…

The alarm clock going off at 5:15 was a bit of a shock to the system. Sookie groaned and wiggled herself closer to me.

"Is it morning already?" she asked, burying her head against my chest.

I reached out and turned the alarm off, looking out the window at the morning sky and mumbled my assent. "We could go back to sleep for a bit. You're the one that wanted to grab breakfast on the way."

She groaned and sat up, her blonde hair tumbling over her shoulders as she looked down at me. "I told you I needed to get some sleep last night. Two hours hardly qualifies as sleep."

"I would be happy to take all the blame for that." I smiled up at her. "But it's only fair to give you some credit. That was certainly a record performance last night."

She shook her head and laughed. "I suppose it would only be right. It was definitely a team effort."

I sat up and brushed her hair over her shoulder before resting my head against hers. "Are you sure you want to go get breakfast? We could give it one last go before you head out."

She laughed and turned her head to kiss my cheek. "As tempting as that is, you know how I get when I don't eat breakfast." Boy did I. And so did the crew at Belle Rive thanks to one of my persuasive mornings that didn't leave enough time to even grab a donut. I hadn't seen Sookie in that bad of a mood since before we started sleeping together.

"I don't think I'd want to be responsible for you unleashing Sookzilla on the poor pilot," I said with mock solemnity.

"Oh shut up!" she said, playfully swinging at my arm before climbing out of bed.

"Come back here," I said, reaching out and grasping her hand, pulling her towards me. "I'm not through with you."

…

Sixty minutes and one quick shower later, we were standing in line at the Starbucks on the way to the airport. For 6:45 in the morning, there was a hell of a line formed out the door.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into skipping breakfast," Sookie groaned, shifting from foot to foot.

"You can get a bagel here," I said, stepping close behind her in the line until the hem of her skirt brushed against my work jeans. I knew better than to do anything overt in public – Sookie had told me in no uncertain terms that PDAs were out of the question, and I agreed for the most part.

"That's not the same," she said. "A cup of coffee and a bagel is a horrible breakfast. I need something more substantial with the day I have ahead of me." She turned her head to admonish me, and her eyes widened as she looked behind me. "Oh my God," she said, turning as white as her coat.

"What?" I asked.

"Your father."

"What about him?"

"He's right there," she said through clenched teeth. "Shit."

I turned my head slowly and saw my dad standing there, talking on his cell phone. I didn't think he'd spotted us yet, but it was inevitable in a place like this. What were the chances? Dad wasn't a Starbucks kind of guy, and this particular Starbucks wasn't on his way to work.

When I turned back to face Sookie, she was looking forward, her spine straight as she built her internal wall up around her. Great. This was the last thing I wanted to deal with today. Between the lack of sleep and having to drop her off at the airport, it already was panning out to be a shitty day. Throw in Sookie's insecurities about our relationship, and I might as well give up.

"He probably won't even see us," I said.

She let out an incredulous laugh and shook her head, still not turning to face me. "Unlikely." She stepped up to place her order, keeping her head turned away from where Dad would be able to see her.

It wouldn't be that big of a deal. It wasn't like my dad was that judgmental about what I did, or what anyone else did for that matter. Yes, it would be easier if he didn't know, but if I had any say in it, he'd be finding out soon enough.

I followed her to the pick-up area, not saying anything as I observed her. She took a step backwards, away from me, placing as much distance as she could between us. We somehow managed to get our coffee and were halfway out the door before we were spotted.

"Alcide?" my dad asked uncertainly from behind me. I turned to face him, doing my best to block Sookie from his view since it was apparent she wasn't ready for him to know.

"Hey," I said with a smile.

"I thought that was you," he continued. "What are you doing here?"

I pointed at the coffee in my hand. "Just thought I'd grab a coffee on my way to Bon Temps."

"But this is out of your way," he said, trying to peer around my shoulder.

I shrugged and nearly spilled my coffee when his eyes widened. "Is that Susannah?" he asked.

I turned my head and saw her frozen in place. "Uh…"

"Yes," she said, taking a step forward and offering Dad a smile. "Alcide here was kind enough to offer to take me to the airport today."

He looked at me curiously for a moment before turning back to Sookie. "That was nice of him," he said slowly.

"Yes," she said with a nod. "Yes it was. I hate to be rude Jackson, but we really need to get going. We're running a bit late as it is."

"Of course," he said, shaking his head. "Don't let me keep you."

Sookie wasn't going to waste her good fortune, or anymore time. She said a quick goodbye and was outside before I could say anything.

Dad raised his eyebrows at me in question.

"What?" I asked. I knew exactly what.

"Nothing," he said, with a smile. "You better get out there before she takes off without you."

I turned my head and saw her standing impatiently by my truck.

"Uh, yeah," I said. "See you later."

"Okay." He nodded. "Oh and Alcide?"

"What?"

"You just be careful there."

"I will."

Sookie didn't say a word to me as I approached the truck and unlocked the door. She stepped into the cab and scowled at me as I shut the door behind her. She was looking straight ahead when I climbed in and started the truck. The silence was deafening as I pulled out of the parking lot and turned towards the airport.

"What?" she asked, turning to face me. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"What was that all about? What just happened back there?"

She shook her head. "I told you we shouldn't go out in public together. I can't believe your father caught us!"

"At Starbucks," I said, turning onto the airport road. "When I'm taking you to the airport. That's hardly catching us."

She let out a frustrated sigh. "How do you think it looks that I'm with you alone at 6:45? Most people that work together aren't out this early as friends."

"We're not friends, Sookie," I said, my frustration at her attitude taking over. "You don't sleep with your friends." How could she keep denying it to herself? Why did she even want to? I knew she would never be one to proclaim it from a mountain top, but she couldn't even seem to admit to herself.

"_He _doesn't know that!" she said. "Oh God, what must he think of me?"

I pulled into an empty space outside of the private jet hangar and put the truck into park before answering her. I turned to face her, scanning her face for any indication that would reassure me that this wasn't about Bill Compton finding out.

There was nothing.

"Why do you even care, Sookie?" I asked. "Janice knows."

"Janice is your sister!" she said. "Janice doesn't work with me. And she may suspect, but I sure as hell haven't said anything that would make her think we're anything but friends."

"Well I certainly didn't tell Dad anything."

"It's different!" she shrieked. "Can't you see that it's different? I don't have to work with Janice; Janice doesn't know anyone that would even care if we were sleeping together. God, if this got out, it could ruin me! I've worked too hard getting my company off the ground to throw it all away like this."

"Is that what this is?" I asked. "You worrying about your professional reputation?"

"What else would it be?" she asked. "It's hard enough as it is to be a woman in this business; I don't want people thinking I fuck everyone I work with to get a job."

I wanted to believe her; really I did. And I'm sure that was part of her motivation, but we both knew there was something else she was worrying about, even if she wouldn't say it outright.

"Are you sure that's all there is to it? Are you sure you're not worried about something else?" While I wouldn't come outright and say it, we both knew what I was talking about. I was tired of tiptoeing around the subject of Bill Compton, but not tired enough to raise the issue outright and cause the fight that would inevitably come with it.

Her jaw dropped, her mouth falling slightly open as she stared at me. She closed her eyes and shook her head. I could almost see the wheels turning as she planned out what to do next. Apparently she decided not to say anything. She got out of the truck and slammed the door behind her. She was struggling to get her suitcase out of the back of the truck by the time I made it around to her.

"Here," I said, pushing her hands gently away. "Let me do it."

She stepped back to give me space, and stood with her arms crossed over her chest as she watched me take out her luggage.

"Thank you," she said, a little less than sincerely as she grabbed the bag out of my hand. She spun around on her heel and began to walk towards the doors of the hangar.

"Sook," I said, chasing after her and grabbing her free hand. She looked down at my hand with disdain before looking up at me.

"What?"

"Don't leave like this," I said. "I…I'm…"

"I don't have time for this Alcide."

"I can't let you go like this," I said.

She pulled her arm free from mine and turned away from me. "It's a little late for that, Alcide."


	17. Chapter 17

I, I was standing  
You were there, two worlds collided

~INXS, Never Tear Us Apart

**Chapter 17**

**SPOV**

I didn't sleep on the plane; couldn't sleep on the plane. Not when my traitorous mind kept replaying the fight with Alcide. It was the longest three and a half hours of my life.

I wanted to be mad at him, really I did. But I knew that there was some truth to what he said, that I wasn't concerned that Jackson had seen us only because of my professional reputation, though that was the main issue. Alcide was right. I was worried that somehow it would get back to Bill, and everything I had worked for these past two years would be thrown out the window.

I could admit to myself that my grand scheme where Bill was concerned seemed a little more ridiculous with each day I spent with Alcide, but when you've planned something for so long, it's hard to throw it out the window entirely.

It wasn't as if Alcide and I had a future together. We had fun together, we enjoyed each other's company, we had phenomenal sex, but it wouldn't last. It couldn't last. What we had between us was nothing more than lust. The intense kind that burned hot and furious, but ultimately burned out quickly. Add that to the fact that our businesses and residences were 1,400 miles away from each other, and we were doomed from the get-go.

Still, knowing that didn't make the way we'd left off any easier. I shouldn't have left him there without another word. I shouldn't have placed the blame for the fight entirely on him. But I was freaked out, and rightfully so. As much as I liked Alcide, I knew that it was my career at stake if someone found out what we were doing. I'd worked too long and too hard to be ridiculed because I slept with my foreman, and believe me, I would be ridiculed. There was a reason I was such a hard-ass on the job, and it was to fend off stories like this.

Too many women had entered the interior design career paths because they didn't have anything else to do – rich trophy wives, single women trying to work in a man's field only to find a suitable husband, you name it. And while I was an industrial designer, it wasn't different enough to completely escape the stigma.

But, I should have given Alcide a chance. I shouldn't have let my anxiety interfere. He was right. We had been caught by his father at Starbucks on the way to the airport. It was very plausible that it was an innocent transaction. It wasn't as if he'd caught me at Alcide's house wearing nothing but my heels and an apron.

I had tried to push Alcide to the back of my mind all day with no success. Even standing in a room of glittering abundance, all I could think about was the look on his face when I turned away from him. I wondered what he would do if I called him right now. Would he answer the phone? Would he even talk to me?

I was pulled out of my daydreams by the piercing voice of Bill's mother. "Susannah, darling, you look absolutely beautiful," Tabitha Compton said, extending her hands in my direction as we walked into the ballroom.

"Thank you Mrs. Compton," I took her hands and leaned in for the perfunctory kiss on the cheek. What had seemed so natural once now seemed foreign. I hadn't air kissed anyone since I'd been in Shreveport. A hearty handshake, a nod of the head, that's what passed for a greeting down there. But I wasn't in Shreveport; I'd have to remember that.

"Call me Tabitha, please," she said, tucking my hand in the crook of her arm. "I should hope that you feel comfortable enough around me by now."

She'd never been this friendly towards me; never had asked me to call her Tabitha. Something had changed, but I didn't know what. And, if I was being honest, I was afraid of what had changed, and more so how I would respond.

"Of course," I said, looking over my shoulder at Bill who walked behind us. He looked as handsome as ever, his tuxedo cut perfectly as only custom-made tuxedos do. I had almost forgotten how handsome he was when he came to my apartment to pick me up. He was so refined, such a gentleman, such a stark contrast to Alcide. It was comforting; comfortable. Yet it didn't feel right.

"BIll tells me that you are doing an amazing job with Belle Rive," she said, picking up two glasses of champagne from of a passing waiter and handing me one.

"Thank you," I said, taking it from her clasp. I looked over at Bill, who was smiling at the two of us. "It is a beautiful property, I cannot take much credit."

She laughed and took a sip of her champagne. "Of course you can. Caroline had let it get so run down that I believe it would take a miracle, which is of course why BIll brought you in. His little miracle worker."

I looked over at Bill quickly, noting his uncomfortable shift from foot to foot, and smiled at him reassuringly. My heart was pounding in my chest at her declaration, though from fear or excitement I could not tell you.

"The structure is what's important," I said. "I am fortunate enough to give it a facelift."

"Yes, I always was rather fond of it, though William never was. He thought that Bon Temps wasn't an acceptable place to live for a man of his stature." She finished her glass of champagne and smiled, reaching out to grab another glass as it passed by. "He couldn't understand why Caroline insisted on staying there. But William always did have such high standards."

I was glad that I hadn't had the opportunity to interact with William Compton, Sr much before his passing. From what I did see, and from what I had heard from others, he wasn't terribly pleasant to be around.

"Did you visit Bon Temps often?" I knew the answer. There was no way that word of mouth wouldn't have travelled in a town like Bon Temps, even if I hadn't ever met the reclusive Caroline Bellefleur.

Tabitha turned to face Bill. "Bill, do you remember that last summer when we went to visit Caroline that summer? You must have been ten at the time?"

"Twelve," he said with a smile.

"Yes, well Bill met up with some of the local boys and got into trouble as young boys are wont to do. When we got the call from the Sheriff – oh, what was his name?" she asked, looking at Bill.

"Dearborne," I said, before I thought to stop myself. I looked over at Bill from below heavy eyes, but he did not seem to notice or care about my slip.

Tabitha looked back at me and nodded. "Yes! That was it. Have you had the opportunity to meet Sheriff Dearborne?"

"In passing," I said with a smile.

"Yes, well Sheriff Dearborne called Caroline to tell her that he had Bill and a handful of boys in the jailhouse for setting off fireworks and breaking some lady's window. You should have seen William!" she said. "He stormed to the jailhouse to collect Bill, and insisted on leaving the next day, afraid that Bill would be influenced by the local hooligans. Caroline tried to talk some sense into him – she was the only one who could – but he insisted on leaving. That was the last time I was in Bon Temps, though I suppose I can't say that for much longer. You must be excited about the party, Susannah."

"Party?" I asked, looking over at Bill with panic.

He laughed and stepped forward, placing a hand on the small of my back. That kind of intimate touch should have excited me, would have two months ago before Alcide Herveaux stormed into my life. Now all I could do was compare Bill's touch to his in my head. Bill's hand was smaller, not as warm or as comforting. It felt almost awkward; he felt almost awkward; like he was testing out something and wasn't quite sure if it worked. It didn't.

"I haven't told Susannah the news yet," he said, looking down at me with a smile. "But I guess the cat's out of the bag. Mother thought it would be a good idea to have a party at Belle Rive once it is complete – invite some our friends down to see it restored in all its glory."

"Oh!" I said, looking over at Tabitha was drinking her second glass of champagne.

"Isn't that wonderful?" she asked with a smile. "And I hope you don't think I've overstepped my boundaries, but I was at a function in Manhattan last week and mentioned the project to Indira Abbley. She was very interested and asked to see some pictures – she'd love to do a feature on the house."

"What?" I asked, looking over at Bill and trying to contain my excitement.

He shrugged and smiled at me. "That was part of the surprise," he said. "Indira's asked about a few of the properties you've done for me in the past, but this one really seemed to spark her interest. She said that she wants to do a five-page spread on Belle Rive and the revitalization of Southern plantation homes."

"I-I don't know what to say." I was stunned. Indira Abbley was the editor-in-chief for Wallpaper Magazine. Getting a spread in Wallpaper was akin to winning an Oscar in my field of work.

"You don't have to say anything," Bill said, running his thumb on the small of my back. "You deserve it."

"Of course she does," Tabitha said distractedly. "You'll have to excuse me, I see one of our patrons across the room and simply must go talk to him. He donated one of the Monets you know."

She was gone in an instant, leaving Bill and me standing alone, his hand still on the small of my back. I felt him clench it, almost uncomfortably before he dropped it back to his side.

"Mother was right. You look beautiful tonight Susannah."

"Thank you," I said, looking down at the skirt of my dress. The dress I'd chosen to wear was a light golden sheath, almost the exact color of my skin tone. It was demure and elegant, and exactly something I knew Bill would appreciate. I smiled as I imagined Alcide's reaction to the dress – I'd worn a blouse of the same color, and he'd suggested I take it off since I looked naked anyway. Bill, of course, would never say anything like that.

"I hope you don't mind about the party," he said.

"Of course not. I do not think there is anything I can do to show my gratitude for the exposure this _Wallpaper _spread will bring to my business."

He looked down at me, warmth seeping into his brown eyes. "There is very little I wouldn't do for you, Susannah." He reached out and rubbed my bare arm and all I could think about was how soft his hands felt in comparison to Alcide's. Not something I should have been thinking at a moment like this. "I should hope you know that by now."

"Bill," I said breathlessly. "I-"

"BIll!" Tabitha's distinctive voice interrupted. "Susannah. There are some gentlemen that I would like you to meet."

I could have kissed Tabitha on the lips at that moment. I don't know what I would have said to Bill, what would have been appropriate. I felt like there was a battle waging inside me – the Old Sookie versus the New. Bill was everything I had ever wanted and more, yet I couldn't make myself respond to him in kind. I couldn't handle thinking about that now. Maybe tomorrow.

I finished my glass of champagne and turned around to see Tabitha standing between two giants. They were both clad in tuxedos, but both looked as if they would have been more comfortable dressed in the warrior costumes that decorated the wall behind them.

"Sigebert, Wybert, this is my son BIll Compton and his date, Susannah Stackhouse."

I extended my hand in their direction, and laughed when the one identified as Sigebert leaned down and kissed the back of my hand. For such a large man, he was very gentle. Yet I was sure that you wouldn't want to get on his bad side.

I was thankful to remain occupied for the remainder of the evening. I was never away from Bill, but I was also never alone with him either. I found him looking at me every time I chanced a look in his direction; he would smile reassuringly, but there was something in his eyes that said something else. Like he had something to say, but would not do it in public.

Truthfully, I was nervous to hear what he said. If it was what I thought it would be, I didn't know what I would say in return. I dreaded the ride back to my Back Bay apartment, alone with Bill in the back of his Town Car. Thankfully, by some act of God, Tabitha asked if Bill would mind if she rode with us. With Tabitha in the car, there would be no conversation.

The town car pulled up in front of my brownstone, and Bill got out to walk me to my door.

"Susannah," he said, looking over his shoulder at the waiting car. "I had hoped we would have some time alone together. There are…things I think we need to discuss. But unfortunately, with Mother waiting, this is neither the time nor place."

_Thank you Tabitha Compton!_

"Anything I should be worried about?" I asked jokingly.

"Of course not!" he said, reaching out to clasp my hand. "There is something I would like to ask you. But that will have to wait. I would say we could talk tomorrow, but I have to leave in the morning for Paris."

I nodded.

"But we will talk soon Susannah," he said. "I will call you when I get back."

He leaned forward and brushed a lingering kiss on my cheek, turning to walk back down the steps to the waiting car.

I climbed slowly up the stairs to my second floor apartment and let myself in the door. I felt like I had too much to drink, though I'd only had the two glasses of champagne. The world was spinning around me, pulling me in every direction. There were two men, two very different men, with two very different ideas for me to choose from. It was a decision I did not want to make.

I peeled out of my dress and fell into my large empty bed. What I wanted more than anything was for Alcide to be there; to bury my head against his chest and for him to tell me everything was going to be okay. But how could I want that when everything I had ever wanted was slowly coming true?

…

I woke up the next morning feeling even more uncertain than when I had gone to bed. I had spent a restless night dreaming of the two men in my life – dreams of Bill and me living at Belle Rive together, with Alcide lurking in every corner, taunting me with his presence, telling me that I had chosen the wrong dream.

I was scheduled to be in Boston until Monday, and was frankly thankful for the respite from my decision. I buried myself in my work, waking up early and staying at the office until I was too exhausted to do anything else. By the time Monday rolled around and I climbed back onto Bill's private jet, I was tired enough to sleep on the flight.

The sun was setting when the jet landed on the private airfield in Shreveport. The humidity greeted me as I stepped out of the small jet, and I took a moment to enjoy the heaviness of the air before descending the steps into the empty hangar.

I didn't know where I stood with Alcide; didn't know what I should do. I hadn't talked to him since I'd left, not even a text or an email. He had every right to be angry with me, and he had every right to tell me to go fuck myself on a personal level. But we had to maintain a working relationship. I wasn't sure exactly how I would be able to do that if he did want to end whatever it was we had, but I would have to.

I had requested that a car be sent to the airport when I'd landed – not having my own vehicle would be somewhat of an inconvenience, but I could wait twenty minutes for my car to arrive. I stepped outside, wanting to enjoy the sunshine while I waited for my luggage to be unloaded and for the car to arrive.

The sun was bright as I exited the hangar, and it took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the change. I walked along the paved tarmac and felt as if my legs were going to buckle underneath me when I saw him.

He looked better than I remembered, leaning against his black truck in his jeans and t-shirt. A pair of aviator sunglasses covered his eyes, but I could feel them on me. His mouth was set in a firm line, and he stood immobile, his arms crossed over his chest.

I gravitated towards him, walking slowly in his direction. I stopped when I was a body length away from him and stood waiting for him to say something. He didn't.

"You came," I said, after a moment.

"I never go back on my word," he stated simply. He looked so heartbreakingly handsome standing there. I could feel the turmoil spilling off of him, encompassing and melding with my own.

"Alcide," I started, nervously licking my lips. "I-" I closed my eyes and shook my head, trying to clear it so that I could say something coherent. "I shouldn't have left like I did."

When I opened my eyes, he was still staring at me in silence, though the firm line of his mouth had softened a bit. "I freaked out."

He nodded. "Yes you did."

"I…I missed you." There. I said it. It was true; truer than I wanted to admit even to myself. The past few days had been productive, but miserable. I found myself wanting to share stories with Alcide, wanting to hear about his day.

"Shit Sookie," he said. His arms unfolded, one reaching up to rub the tension out of his neck as he looked at me. He shook his head. "I missed you too."

I felt myself smiling before I was even aware I was doing it. Those were the exact words I was hoping to hear.

"I can't say I'm proud of it," he continued. "But dammit I missed you." He reached out and clasped my hand in his. "I found myself thinking about you all the time – when I was at home, when I was at work. There was no avoiding it. I wanted to be mad at you, to stay mad at you, but more than anything I just wanted you to be there."

"I'm sorry," I said, rubbing my thumb against his palm.

"Me too."

The attendant came out to tell me that my luggage had been unloaded and that the car would be here any minute.

"She has a ride," Alcide said, taking my luggage and putting it in his truck.

"But, she ordered a car," the man said.

"She has a ride," Alcide repeated. "Please call the company and tell them the car is no longer needed."

I should have said something; offered to pay for the inconvenience, but I couldn't. I remained quiet as Alcide took my hand and led me to the passenger door, opening it and lifting me into the truck. His hands lingered on my waist, his eyes promising more to come.

I watched as he walked around to the driver's side. I couldn't deny it; couldn't deny him. From the minute I saw him waiting for me, I knew that I would never be able to be his friend. We were in this too deep to be anything else.

It wasn't a decision exactly, but then again, I didn't need to make the decision between Bill and Alcide right now.

Not yet.


	18. Chapter 18

Sometimes the questions are complicated and the answers are simple.

~Dr. Seuss

**Chapter 18**

**APOV**

There were two more weeks before the project would be wrapped. Ten days if I was being technical until Bill Compton returned to take residence – at least partial residence – at Belle Rive, which Sookie had informed me would be kicked off with some God-awful party.

That meant only ten more days of having Sookie to myself; eleven days before we'd have to have "the talk." We hadn't mentioned the issue since she returned, hadn't discussed what would happen once the job was over. The words we'd exchanged on the tarmac had been enough – while she hadn't outright said it, I knew that she didn't think of us as a fling anymore. What she thought we were was still up in the air; hell, what I thought we were was still up in the air. Who knew what would happen once the job was done?

The work at Belle Rive kept me busy during the day – we'd somehow managed to catch up to the schedule, though the budget was shot to hell in the process. Once the date for the party had been set, and invitations sent unbeknownst to us, there was no other option. Bill had approved the additional costs in an email stating "if Susannah says it's necessary, it must be." At least her relationship with him was good for one thing.

I'd taken Sookie back to my place after the airport, unwilling to be away from her for any length of time. I'd pulled her to me as soon as the door closed behind us, needing the contact that I had been missing. Our joining had been different that night, almost reverent. There was no hurried pace, despite the time we'd spent apart. We worshipped each other's bodies with our own, stopping only when sleep overtook us.

She'd left early this morning, heading into Belle Rive to finalize the last areas we were working on. The structural work had all been completed, and now there were only cosmetic touches to complete – the two largest projects remaining were replacing the windows and refinishing the floors downstairs. Upstairs was complete, and was strictly Sookie's territory as she worked with the furniture delivery and placement.

I smiled to myself as I heard the click-clack of her heels on the floor above me, followed by the grumbling of the hired muscle. She'd rearranged each bedroom upstairs twice already. If they thought they would have an easy day of delivery, they had certainly been confused. While I'd managed to get her to loosen up a little, she was still a perfectionist; now that she knew the house was going to be featured in _Wallpaper_, there was no stopping her.

When it was close to five, I sent the crew home for the day, made my way upstairs to check on the progress and was floored by what I saw. What had been an empty beige room was now a cleverly designed master suite. The canopy bed had been restored, and the chocolate brown curtains and bedding were elegant, but gave the room a masculine feel.

Sookie had dismissed the delivery men thirty minutes ago, and was attempting to push a heavy armoire by herself. I leaned against the doorjamb and watched as she struggled to move it by herself, her long legs angled on top of a pair of sky high heels.

"Do you want some help there?" I asked, chuckling when she startled and jumped away from the armoire.

"Oh!" she said, smoothing her hands over her skirt and nervously tucking a stray blonde curl behind her ear. "Um, yes I suppose I could use some help. This needs to be angled a bit, moved closer to the wall."

I nodded and walked towards her, admiring the way the skirt pulled across her thighs as she moved out of the way. She stopped a few feet away from the heavy piece of furniture and placed her hands on her hips.

I put my shoulder against the armoire and pushed. It was heavier than it looked, and a simple nudge wasn't going to do it. I smiled over my shoulder at her, and placed my hands on the edges to push again, throwing a bit more force into it than necessary and getting my hand caught between the wall and the surprisingly sharp edge of the armoire.

"Shit," I said, pulling my hand out roughly. A steady trickle of blood came pouring from between my thumb and forefinger.

Sookie was there in an instant, her tiny hands grabbing at mine as she examined the cut. "That looks painful," she said, "and messy. Come on." She led me into the master bathroom and opened the mirrored cabinet that hung over the sink, which she'd already stocked with medical supplies. She was definitely full service when it came to setting up these homes.

"Sit down," she said, inclining her head towards the closed toilet as she rummaged in the cabinet. "And try not to get blood on the rug."

I chuckled. "Are you more concerned about me or the rug Sookie?"

"Does it hurt?" she asked.

"Kind of," I said with a shrug. "You should come kiss it and make it feel better."

She shook her head and didn't respond, walking over and kneeling between my legs in front of me to examine the cut in the brighter light of the bathroom. My hand, and her hands by extension, was resting on the top of my thigh, dangerously close to the seam of my work jeans. She reached for a cotton swab and pressed against the wound with surprising force. It wasn't that bad of a cut; I'd had worse, but I wasn't going to discourage her attentions.

She lifted the cotton and nodded when she was satisfied that the blood had stopped, reaching out and lathering my hand with the Neosporin she'd gotten from the medicine cabinet. Her gentle touch as she rubbed the cream between my fingers had muscles in my abdomen tingling, and when she bent her head and put her lips close to the wound and gently blew on it, I was done for. She reached for a Band-Aid and smoothed it over the cut juncture.

"Sookie," I growled from the pit of my stomach. Her eyes flew up to meet mine, and she let out a small gasp when we locked gazes. I wrapped my good hand around the back of her neck, entwining my fingers in her hair and pulling her up until our lips were inches apart and our breath intermingled.

Her breasts brushed against the top of my thighs and I shifted forward, kneeling down in front of her until we were knee-to-knee, body-to-body. I pulled her tightly against me, the bulge in my pants pressing into her soft stomach.

I closed the remaining gap between our mouths, brushing my lips against hers in a promise of what was to come as I continued down her jaw and throat. She let out a whimper, her hands flying up to rest on my arms.

"Alcide," she said breathily, "the men…"

"I sent them home," I said, sucking the skin of her neck in between my teeth. "They were done for the day."

"The rules," she whimpered.

"Princess, we've broken every other rule we set out. What's one more?" I pushed at the collar of her cardigan, easing it down over her bare shoulders and arms until it puddle on the floor behind her.

"We shouldn't," she said, though her tone said anything but.

I stilled my lips, which were toying with the junction of her neck and shoulder. I looked up and met her eyes, which were heavy with lust. "Give me one good reason why not."

She looked down at my eyes and shook her head. "It's inappropriate."

"Princess," I said with a chuckle. "We've done far more inappropriate things than this." My hands skimmed down the side of her tailored dress, bunching the fabric of her skirt until my fingertips brushed her bare thighs.

"I know, but…"

"But nothing," I commanded. I wanted her, right here, right now. And she could say anything she wanted, but the way she was looking at me, the way her body was responding told me that she felt the same.

Her eyes scanned my face, settling on my lips. She let out a low, throaty groan when my tongue darted out to wet my lips.

"That's what I thought," I said, pulling her flush against my body. Her hands encircled my waist, her fingers slipping under my t-shirt and toying with the muscles on my lower back. Never one to pass up an opportunity, I released her skirt and pulled my t-shirt over my head.

"Damn you," she said as her eyes roamed over my chest. I watched in silence as she bit her lower lip and lowered her head, pressing her lips against my collar bone. Her mouth trailed across my chest, leaving wet kisses across my chest. Her hands were everywhere, roaming across my back and pulling me closer to her exploring mouth. I groaned when her teeth grazed across my nipple, and pulled her face up to meet mine, resting my forehead on hers.

My hands had been idle at my side as she administered her kisses, but they came to life, tugging at the zipper on the back of her dress. It fell to her waist, her delicate white bra a sinful contrast to the tan skin underneath. My hands skimmed up her sides, cupping the sides of her breasts as I looked into her eyes. The normal crystal quality was gone, hazed over with her desire.

She whimpered my name when my thumbs brushed across the lace covering her nipples; they pebbled against my fingers as her eyes closed and her head rolled back.

I couldn't wait any longer. I stood up abruptly, pulling her with me and smiling with satisfaction when her dress fluttered to the floor around her feet, leaving her in her underwear and bra. I clasped the backs of her thighs and picked her up, setting her down on the expanse of countertop behind us. I had questioned her decision to leave such a large countertop at the time of instillation, but was ready to fall at my knees and worship her for that decision at the moment. In fact, that seemed like a damn good idea.

I hooked my thumbs on the elastic of her underwear, urging her to lift her hips and guiding the fabric over her hips and thighs. I dropped to my knees in front of her, looking her in the eye as I eased them down the remainder of her legs and finally over those shoes that had been driving me crazy all day.

My lips traveled up the inside of her calf and I pulled her to the edge of the counter as I got closer to her center. Her breathing was rapid as I nipped at her inner thigh, smiling when I saw the traces of the mark I'd left the weekend before, and she let out a string of incoherent words when my mouth reached its final destination.

The heels of her shoes dug into my shoulders as she whimpered and writhed against my mouth, but I wasn't going to complain. A little pain mixed with the knowledge of the pleasure to come never hurt anyone. Her release came quickly, her body arching against the mirror behind her.

I kissed my way up her body, capturing her mouth with my own as she clawed desperately at the belt on my jeans. "I need you," she panted, reaching into my back pocket and pulling out the wallet where she knew I carried my condoms. She smiled as she pulled one out and her free hand went to the fly of my jeans, stroking me through the denim before releasing the buttons and pushing the fabric off my hips.

She took my erection in her hands, stroking me a handful of times before opening the foil packet and unfurling the condom over me. Her legs wrapped around my waist as I entered her, her body sheathing me as we moved against each other. My eyes roamed over her body, to her heavy breasts still encompassed in the white lace, to where our bodies joined, and finally to the mirror behind her where I watched us clasp at each other. She let out a high pitched moan when she came, and I followed closely thereafter, letting out a stream of curses and telling her exactly how good it felt.

She collapsed against the mirror behind her, pulling me down with her. "That was…" she said, shaking her head.

"Incredible?" I asked, nuzzling the side of her neck and reveling in the feeling of being buried inside of her.

She nodded, and I heard the rumble of laughter in her chest. "Something like that."

"Come out with me tonight," I said.

"Where?"

"Dinner."

"What if someone…?"

"Stop," I said, placing my finger on her lips. "There is nothing to worry about."

She bit her lip and looked in my eyes, nodding in silence. "Why the hell not?" she said finally. "We've done everything else. What can dinner hurt?"

…

Dinner didn't hurt; except for the incredible need I felt to pull her across the table and revisit those white panties, it would have looked like a working meal to any onlooker.

Drinks after dinner? That was a different story.

I took Sookie to a quiet bar in the neighborhood I'd grown up in. It wasn't a popular bar by any means, mostly frequented by locals. Outsiders came every once in awhile, but they were made to feel unwelcome unless they came with one of the regulars. I knew we wouldn't run into anyone she knew here.

I sat next to Sookie in the small booth, pulling her flush against me as my fingers trailed along her bare shoulder. The waitress Amanda greeted me with a friendly smile, and gave Sookie the eye as she took our drinks. I hadn't brought a woman to the bar since I was twenty-two years old, and that had turned downright ugly.

"I like this place," Sookie said, taking a long drink of her gin and tonic. "Though the waitresses are all scrutinizing me."

"They are not," I said, shaking my head. "They're just protective."

"Of you?"

I shrugged.

"Why? I mean. Have you given them reason to be protective?"

"I worked here when I was twenty-one," I said. "One summer when I came home from college, I decided to rebel against my dad and take a non-construction job. They hired me here as a bartender and I got to know the girls pretty well."

She raised her eyebrows sardonically. "How well?"

I shifted in my seat. "Some better than others," I said with a shrug. "One really well." But she didn't work here anymore; thankfully. It had been a summer fling, and we had both used each other for sex and nothing more. Or at least, that's what I had thought. Turned out Hadley had a different idea about our relationship and had gone a little crazy when I headed back to school. She'd driven up to see me, sent me letters and called me incessantly. She'd finally flipped her lid when I brought my college girlfriend to the bar on a school break, and had been fired. Last I heard, she'd decided women were more her style and was living down in New Orleans. Not something Sookie needed to know about.

"Is that so?" Sookie asked with a laugh.

I shrugged. "I was twenty-one. What do you expect?"

"Nothing really," she said, finishing her second drink and flagging Amanda down for another. "You have quite the past around here, don't you Mr. Herveaux?"

"When you grow up somewhere, you tend to gather a bit of history, sure. I'm sure there are stories about you; ex-boyfriend nightmares."

She looked over and me and shook her head. "Not in Bon Temps," she said with a shrug. "I didn't really date anyone until I moved to Boston."

"You're kidding!" I said. "You were what, twenty-two? Twenty-three?"

She nodded. "Bon Temps isn't exactly a hotbed of attractive men. And the ones that were were all friends with my brother Jason; and he didn't particularly like me, so I never really had the opportunity to date."

"What about in college? Surely you must've had men asking you out in college." I would have. I could just imagine what she would've looked like a as a co-ed.

"Some," she said. "But I was in a man's world, and better than a lot of them at it." She shrugged. "Being smarter in class doesn't get you asked out on dates."

She thanked Amanda when she brought another gin and tonic and took another drink.

"They were stupid," I said.

"What's that?" she asked.

"The guys at your college. They were stupid to not ask you out."

"That's neither here nor there," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "It was a long time ago. And who knows how I would've turned out if I had my head turned by guys in college? Maybe I wouldn't have been so driven to succeed and I wouldn't be sitting with you here today."

"You're right. We couldn't have that." I chuckled as she finished her third drink. "Do you think you want to slow down?"

"What?" she asked, the straw making a slurping noise as she reached the bottom.

"Your drinks," I said, nodding towards the empty glass. "You don't drink very much regularly."

She shook her head. "I drink plenty," she said, flagging Amanda down again. "Besides, I thought you liked it when I have a bit to drink. It loosens my inhibitions."

"We've done a good job loosening your inhibitions without alcohol lately," I said, brushing a kiss across her temple. "Why you didn't have any inhibitions this afternoon in the bathroom."

She blushed and squirmed in her seat beside me, looking squarely down at the empty cup in her hand. "You have a way of making me forget what's appropriate Alcide."

I reached out and stroked the side of her neck, pulling her face towards me until she'd look me in the eyes. "Sookie," I said, "there's nothing wrong with two consenting adults enjoying each other. It's just sex, remember?" It was more than that. I knew it, but I didn't want to push it.

Her eyes searched mine and she pressed her cheek into my hand. "If only it were just that," she whispered.

"What? What do you mean?"

"I feel…" She shook her head and looked away from me. "I don't know. I can't explain it."

"Try," I urged, my voice sounding raw even to me.

She turned back and met my gaze. "It's not just sex," she said. "It may have started out that way, but it's not just sex anymore. We wouldn't be here if it was just sex; I wouldn't want to spend time with you every day if it was just sex."

My breath caught in my throat and I stilled, not wanting to even move. This was the most I'd gotten out of Sookie on this subject. While I wasn't sure this was the place to have a conversation about what was going to happen, I wasn't going to be too picky. It was a subject I'd thought about bringing up a thousand times, and frankly wasn't sure that I wanted to hear the answer.

Amanda dropped Sookie's drink off and raised her eyebrows at me. I shook my head at Amanda as my hand dropped to Sookie's shoulder before falling to the top of the table. Sookie smiled at Amanda and took a sip of her drink. "I don't like it," she said barely above a whisper once Amanda was out of earshot.

"Don't like what?"

"I don't like that I like you. I don't want to like you," she said, not looking at me. "It…complicates things."

"Complicates things how?"

She shook her head. "You don't fit in with my plans. You don't fit in anywhere."

"You can't plan out your life Sookie. It doesn't work like that. Things come up, things you could never expect and could never plan for."

"No," she said. "Not for me. I've not veered off the path for four years. Everything has always worked out like I wanted it to. I've never done anything I shouldn't. Well, not until I met you."

I sat back and contemplated her words without saying anything for a moment. "Are you saying that you regret it? Regret this?"

"Honestly?" she asked.

I nodded, unsure if I wanted to hear the answer.

"No."

One word. The one word I wanted to hear, but dared not hope to get.

"Sookie," I said, placing my hands on either side of her face and pulling her to me. My lips met hers, and her response was immediate. I thought she would pull away, and she probably would have even ten minutes ago. She sank into me, brushing her lips against mine. She tasted like tonic and lemon, and I wanted nothing more than to continue the exploration, but she pulled away.

"I wish I did…regret it that is."


	19. Chapter 19

**AN: **The Handyman is back! A day early even. You can thank my job for that, since I shall be out of town tomorrow and couldn't post :D

Hope you enjoy!

* * *

I think I'm paranoid  
And complicated  
I think I'm paranoid  
Manipulated

Bend me  
Break me  
Anyway you need me  
All I want is you

~Garbage, I Think I'm Paranoid

**Chapter 19**

**SPOV**

I was having a mild panic attack. No one would guess it from looking at me, but as I surveyed the living room in front of me, I was having a hell of a time trying to breathe.

It was one week until Bill was supposed to show up, and only eight days before the big party to reveal the renovations. As if having Indira here wasn't reason enough to panic, Alcide had also informed me that Jackson had obtained an invitation for Copley Carmichael. It would undoubtedly be the make it or break it point in my career, and I couldn't afford for anything to be wrong.

If I was smart, I would stay at Belle Rive round the clock as we approached the final hour. But I wasn't smart. Not where Alcide Herveaux was concerned.

The man in question was standing next to me, his hands crossed over his broad chest as he surveyed the room in front of us. His brows were furrowed as he examined the giant scratch on the hardwood floor in front of the fireplace. The furniture delivery men had been less than careful with the piano that sat elegantly in front of the large window.

"Shit," he said, letting out a whoosh of air.

"My sentiments exactly," I replied. The last thing we needed was for our schedule to be pushed off again. Not when Bill was so close to coming.

"I guess we're going to have to refinish that section of the floor." He looked over at me and I could sense the tension rolling off of his shoulders. They'd just finished the floors the day before, and it was already three o'clock on a Friday afternoon. "I can get Hoyt and Malcolm to stay."

"We can pay them double for the whole day," I said. Anything to get us back to where we needed to be.

"Alright," he said with a nod. "It shouldn't take them too long. Thank God I stopped them before they made it worse."

I'd heard the commotion downstairs, and had come flying down the steps when I heard Alcide's raised voice. I'd never heard him yell at anyone; no matter how mad he got, he always managed to keep his calm. But not today, and certainly not with the delivery men.

"Yes," I said, turning to him with a smile. "Thank God for you. I can't even begin to guess where I'd be without you."

His eyes darkened as he looked at me, and I felt myself begin to blush under his gaze. I hadn't meant to say it quite like that, but the fact of the matter was that Alcide had been an essential part of this project, and was growing to be a more essential part of my life much to my dismay.

He hadn't pushed me to say anything else after our talk at his neighborhood bar. The alcohol had certainly loosened my tongue, but I hadn't said anything I wasn't thinking. Alcide was a giant kink in my plans, and I had no idea what I needed or wanted to do about it. The thought of leaving him in a week and a half made me sick to my stomach, but I couldn't throw everything away for a man. It was what my mother had done, and look where that got her. No. If I was smart, I'd go back to Boston and try to forget about him.

But again, I wasn't particularly smart where he was concerned. It was something we'd have to talk about eventually, even if I was hoping I could put it off a few more days.

Hoyt and Malcolm agreed to stay late, particularly when the extra pay incentive was mentioned. It didn't hurt that the area shouldn't take more than three hours to get it done, so they'd only be staying one hour extra. I planned to stay with them, and so did Alcide.

I spent the rest of the afternoon upstairs, putting the finishing touches on the rooms up there and surreptitiously avoiding the master bathroom. I hadn't been able to go in there all week without images of Alcide on his knees before me, his mouth doing sinful things that I should feel ashamed of, but didn't. So, I avoided it all together. It had been in perfect shape before our rendezvous, and a thorough cleaning of the counter afterwards had put it back to rights; no need to go back in there now.

"Hey Stackhouse," I heard Alcide's booming voice call from downstairs. I walked out and leaned over the railing. He was standing below me, looking up at me with his hands on his hips.

"Yes?" I asked, trying not to laugh.

"The guys are finished. Wanna come down here and inspect it?"

I looked at my watch and was surprised to see that it was already 6:15. I nodded, and walked down the steps. I could feel Alcide's eyes on me as I descended towards him, and did my best not to look at him. The guys had been eyeing us closely lately, almost as if they knew something was up. I wasn't going to give them any confirmation whatsoever.

Hoyt and Malcolm were standing on either side of the fireplace, their eyes looking down at the area the scratch had been. By some miracle, they'd made it look as good as new; or rather, as new as a floor that was 150 years old could look.

"That's amazing," I said, smiling at both of them. "I can't thank you enough for putting in the extra time."

Hoyt looked like he was going to jump out of his skin. I supposed he'd never seen this side of me, and when you get used to someone yelling at you all the time, it was a bit scary when they turned nice. Malcolm, on the other hand, looked about as disinterested as possible.

"This going to be in our paycheck on Monday, boss?" he asked, refusing to look at me.

"Sure," Alcide said. His voice was closer than I thought he was; if I'd taken one step back, I would have surely collided with his broad chest.

"Good," Malcolm said, reaching down to pick up his tools. "I sure as hell didn't stay late on a Friday out of the kindness of my heart."

"No one would have ever thought you did Malc," Alcide said with a laugh. Malcolm nodded his head in my direction and walked out the door, Hoyt following closely on his heels. He'd at least said goodbye to me.

Alcide and I stood there unmoving as we heard the doors to the truck shut and the sound of gravel crunching under their tires as they left the property.

"They really don't like me," I said, turning to face Alcide with my hands locked behind my back.

Alcide laughed and shook his head, reaching out to rub my bare arms with his rough, callused hands. "They're a little intimidated by you," he said. "I wouldn't say that they don't like you though."

"It's okay," I said with a shrug. It didn't matter. There were a lot of people that didn't like me, particularly on the job. I hadn't gained the success and reputation I had by playing nice.

"I like you," he said, leaning forward and pressing his lips against his forehead. "A little too much sometimes."

I smiled and rested my forehead against his mouth, taking a moment to revel in his touch. There was something about him that I found so relaxing, so calming. One touch and it was as if the troubles all fell away and all I could think about was what was happening in the moment.

"I like you too," I said, leaning back to look into his eyes.

"I know," he said with a smirk. "But you don't want to."

I shrugged. He'd teased me about my drunken confession mercilessly, but it was endearing. It was as close as I was going to come to having a discussion about my feelings. I didn't talk about feelings, didn't even like to admit I had them. He seemed to realize that, and hadn't really pushed the issue.

"What are we doing tonight?" I asked. There was no point in pretending that we weren't going to spend the weekend together. It would be our last weekend alone before I was due back in Boston. Next weekend Bill would be here, and the great reveal would occupy the rest of the time.

"Janice invited me to her house for a barbeque. Said I wasn't allowed to come unless I brought you. Sisterly loyalty, eh?"

I shook my head and giggled. I really liked Janice, and it appeared she liked me. She was the first woman I'd met that I could call a friend in ages. We'd gone to dinner together one night this week, much to Alcide's displeasure. He'd been handpicked to babysit Tommy, and when we got back and Janice left, he told me in no uncertain terms that he'd rather help me take my underwear off than Tommy's.

"What time does it start?"

"Six-thirty."

"Well, it's six forty-five now," I said, looking down at my watch. "I'd say we're late."

He shrugged and pulled me against him. "Janice's barbeques go into the wee hours of the morning. She probably hasn't even noticed we aren't there. She always invites too many people. We can head straight over there."

I looked down at the pencil skirt and cardigan I was wearing and frowned. "I don't know. I think Janice might laugh if I showed up wearing this."

He stepped back and walked over to his work bag, rifling through it and letting out a satisfied laugh when he found what he was looking for. "Good thing I brought these," he said, holding out the pair of very skinny jeans he was so fond of on me.

"You brought my jeans?" I asked incredulously. He nodded. "That's… well, kind of creepy."

"Think of it as thoughtful," he suggested, handing them to me. "I figured you might want to change before heading over there."

"You just wanted to see me in them again," I said.

"Sure," he responded with a shrug. "The thing I like best about those jeans is the knowledge that I get to peel them off of you later."

It may have been true, but the presumption still irked me. "Don't be so sure of yourself, Alcide. It isn't very becoming."

"If I remember correctly, Princess," he said, stepping forward and lowering his mouth to my ear. "The last time you challenged me like that, I had you begging me to touch you. Right upstairs in the bathroom if my memory serves me correctly."

I flushed, and stepped out of his grasp. He was able to push my buttons like no one else could, like I never thought anyone would.

"Maybe I want to take my own jeans off for once," I said with a shrug, reaching for my zipper and letting the skirt fall around my feet. His eyes flew to my bare thighs, glazing over as he let out a grunt of appreciation. He took a step forward, reaching out to touch me and I slapped his hand away. "Not so fast," I said, putting one leg, and then the other into the jeans and wiggling into them. "I believe we've got somewhere to be."

.

We dropped my SUV off in front of Alcide's house, and he was just as cantankerous when I climbed into the passenger's seat as he had been when we left Belle Rive. I had to laugh at his surliness; he was a man used to getting his way, and I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy pushing his buttons now and then.

"What's wrong, Alcide?" I asked, trying to stifle my laughter as I reached out and rested my hand on his thigh.

"Sookie," he growled, "if I were you, I'd move your hand far away."

"What?" I teased, lifting my hand in the air. "This one?"

"Yes, that one," he said. He was driving faster than he normally did, taking out whatever he was feeling on the road ahead. It wasn't as if I had denied him really, I just hadn't given him exactly what he wanted. It'd be a good, character building experience for him, and frankly, the thought of winding him up made the anticipation all the better.

"Why?" I asked, setting it back down on his leg, closer to the growing bulge in his pants. "It's just a hand."

He swerved the truck to the side of the road, coming to a screeching halt. "Unless you're planning to follow through within the next thirty seconds, it'd be in your best interest to keep your hands to yourself."

"Or what?"

"Or I'll rip you out of your seatbelt and deal with the problem myself."

"Oh!" I gasped. The heat of his eyes froze me in place.

"I don't particularly feel like walking into my sister's house with a hard-on. And you putting your hands all over me isn't helping." I pulled my hand back. He reached out and unbuckled my seatbelt, pulling me towards him. "So, are you going to do something about it Princess?"

I shook my head, biting my bottom lip. I had never had sex in a car, and had no interest in finding out what it was all about. My breath caught as he leaned close enough that I could feel his breath across my face. "Then I'd suggest you get out of my truck."

"What?" I gasped, my eyes widening with shock. "You're kicking me out of your truck because I won't have sex with you in it?"

His lips brushed along my jaw. "Do you think I'd do that, Princess?"

"I don't know what to think," I said, honestly.

"Then I reckon you don't know me as well as you thought you did." He chuckled and sat back. "We're here." He nodded his head towards my window, and I turned my head slowly to see a brightly lit house with cars in the driveway.

I smacked his hands away and flung the passenger's door open, scowling when I heard his laughter fill the night air. I was halfway up the drive when he caught up to me, grabbing my wrist and pulling me back towards him.

"Aw, don't be mad at me Princess," he said. His warm hands felt like fire in the cool summer breeze, and it took everything I had not to lean into his embrace.

"I'm not mad," I responded, my arm free and making my way inside ahead of him. I was a little bit mad, and more than a little bit turned on by his aggressive streak. It wasn't something I was particularly proud of.

Janice's house was full of people. Most everyone appeared to be in their late twenties and early thirties, and thankfully I didn't know a soul there with the exception of Janice, Dell and Alcide. Dell had passed along Kevin's regret at not being able to make it, which I accepted with a smile. I heard a rumble in Alcide's chest at the mention of Kevin's name, and told Dell to make sure and tell him that his presence was missed.

After we got our "home-cooked" barbeque (read: catered), Dell lit the fire pit and I took a seat near on the ledge of a small, brick wall that lined their patio. Alcide came and sat down next to me, pulling me close when a shiver ran down my spine.

I leaned against him, resting my head in the crook of his arm and let out a contented sigh. There was something comforting about being here with him like this. I knew the week ahead of us would be busy, and I didn't know if I'd get another chance to be with him like this before I was supposed to return to Boston.

"Still mad at me?" he asked, brushing his lips across my hairline.

"I was never mad at you," I said. "Just annoyed. I hear that's quite common where you're concerned."

"What's that?" Janice asked, sitting down next to Alcide and waggling her eyebrows.

"Nothing," Alcide said, turning to face her with a laugh. "Sookie here was just telling how annoying I am."

"Glad that didn't take her very long to catch on," Janice said, taking a sip of her beer. "Smart and pretty. You'd better not screw this one up brother."

"I'm not planning to," he said, his arm instinctively tightening around me. I squirmed against him, not sure what I should say at that point. A part, buried deep inside of me warmed at his words, but logically I knew that he'd have to let me go; that I'd be leaving in a week. Thankfully, I didn't have to say anything.

"So," Janice said, leaning across Alcide. "We missed you last weekend at baseball. Alc said you had to go back to Boston for something?"

"Yep," I said. "I had a charity function to attend that I couldn't get out of."

"You could've gotten out of it," Alcide said to me, then turned to Janice. "She went with Bill Compton."

Janice's eyes widened with something I couldn't quite read. I wondered how she would even know who Bill Compton was, much less have an opinion about him. There was something to their relationship that Alcide hadn't shared with me; something more than doing a few jobs for Bill.

"Really?" she asked. "Man, I haven't seen Billy in years! Does he still have that god awful haircut?"

"Yep," Alcide said with a nod. "Sideburns and all!"

"It's not bad!" I piped in defensively. "It's old-fashioned yes, but it suits him. How do you know Bill anyway Janice?"

"Billy? We've known each other forever," Janice said, giving Alcide a funny look before turning back to me. "Dad's been doing work with his family forever it seems."

"Oh," I said, nodding as I tried to accept the explanation. It still didn't sit right with me, and I felt like they were holding something back. But I didn't think Janice would participate in a cover up where Bill Compton was concerned. She had no reason to. I was being paranoid. Right? "Yes, I suppose that makes sense."

"How do you know him?" Janice asked.

"I've been working with Bill for a couple of years now, on his various projects. He hired me when my company wasn't very well known, and we've been together ever since." I felt Alcide stiffen against me at my words. "He's quite brilliant."

"He's something alright," she said. "So, what was this charity function?"

"It was for the MFA. His mother chaired it with one of the Shrivers."

"Tabitha Compton? Whew. Have you met her?" I nodded. "She always scared the crap out of me, what with those white suits and that pinched face of hers. Hell, I don't think I've ever seen her crack a smile, with the exception of when she gets a fresh bottle of Vicodin." I scowled at Alcide's failed attempt to stifle a laugh as Janice continued. "Tabitha Compton always had a little streak of Lucille Bluth, mixed up with Cindy McCain in her."

Alright. Maybe I wasn't being paranoid. I could accept the explanation that Janice knew Bill through Herveaux & Sons, but Tabitha? How in the world did she know Tabitha? That was something I would need to get to the bottom of if I was going to find out what they were keeping from me.

"She's very nice," I said. "She does a lot of work for the charities I'm involved in up in Boston. The Compton Foundation is an essential part of most charitable projects in Boston."

"Oh sure," Janice said, taking a swig of her beer. "She puts on a good show, but I've been on the receiving end of more than a few death rays. Why, when she caught Bill and me in the back of his car…" she trailed off. "Um, not appropriate. Right. I, uh, think Dell might need my help." She shot off the couch like she'd been zapped by lightening, and practically ran back into the house.

"What was that about?" I asked once Janice was out of sight.

"Oh, I know better than to open my mouth about that subject," Alcide said, raising his hands in surrender. "I don't talk about Bill Compton with you."

And that was the problem. In as much time was we spent with each other, with as much as we shared, he hadn't said a word about what he knew about Bill Compton.

"Why not?" I asked.

"Because he doesn't mean anything." Alcide leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on my forehead. "There's you, and there's me. There's no room for Bill Compton, so why bother talking about him at all?"

I looked up at him, the firelight flickering shadows over the stern set of his face. I wasn't going to get him to talk tonight; wasn't going to get him to change his mind. And for once, I didn't care. If this was our last weekend together like this, I didn't want to ruin it by talking about anyone.

Especially the one person who could bring it all crashing down if I let him.

I just had to figure out if I wanted to let him anymore.

**

* * *

AN:** And the plot thickens! (cue suspenseful music)


	20. Chapter 20

Is your secret safe tonight? And are we out of sight? Or will our world come tumblin' down?

**Muse - Resistance**

**Chapter 20 **

**APOV**

"What's the deal with Sookie and Bill?"

I looked through the chain link fence at my sister, innocently holding Tommy on her hip. Her eyes crossed the baseball field and she smiled when they locked on Dell in the dugout. Janice and Sookie had been sitting together on the stands, seemingly enjoying themselves when I saw Sookie answer her phone.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

Janice rolled her eyes and shifted Tommy in her arms. "Don't play stupid Alcide. Why were you acting so weird when Sookie asked how we knew the Comptons?"

My back stiffened and I turned to face Janice, searching behind her for any sign of Sookie. When I was satisfied that she wasn't within hearing range, I leaned closer to the fence and lowered my voice. "Sookie doesn't know about my past."

Janice threw her head back and laughed, and Tommy mimed his mother without knowing what was so funny. "What do you mean she doesn't know about your past? She doesn't know that you're secretly Batman?"

"Shut up Janice," I snapped. "No. She thinks I'm the son of a construction worker, not a multi-millionaire."

Janice looked at me incredulously. "And she thinks that because…?"

"Because she made the assumption and I let her."

"Alc, I know you've had problems in the past with your ex-girlfriends, but Sookie isn't like that. There's no way she'd like you just for your money."

I shrugged and dug my hands into my pockets. "I…I would just rather not find out." I hoped she wouldn't, but she was accustomed to a certain lifestyle, a lifestyle I could provide certainly, but not one I particularly cared to be a part of. She was used to charity events, and dinners at fine restaurants with Bill; I'd taken her to baseball practice and a bowling alley.

She shook her head and looked at me thoroughly. "She's not stupid, Alcide."

"I never said she was."

"I'm sure she doesn't think you're a poor construction worker with that house of yours."

"Of course not," I said. "She knows I have ownership in the business, and she knows exactly what the profit margins on these kinds of jobs are. But I'd rather have her think I was a self made man, than some rich kid whose life was handed to him on a silver platter. I want her to like me for me, and not for what I represent."

"You underestimate her Alcide. She likes you. A lot. I don't think it would matter, and the longer you wait to tell her, the harder it's going to be. And you're going to have to tell her eventually if you plan on staying with her."

I knew she was right; really I did. But knowing how she was about Bill Compton, and her silly little life plans, I didn't want to risk it. I wanted her to choose to stay with me because she liked _me _and not what my family represented. Her knowing that my family rivaled Compton's in wealth might be the tipping point in her decision, and it wasn't one I wanted to give her.

"I don't know that she plans on staying, Jan."

"Bullshit," she snapped. In any other situation, I would have laughed when Tommy mimicked his mom. But there was too much running through my head to laugh. "The only reason she wouldn't stay is if you didn't give her a damn good reason to stay."

"Her life is in Boston."

"She owns her own business that does work around the country, Alcide. She could be based anywhere."

"She's not going to move to Shreveport because I ask her to. She's got this whole five year plan."

"So, convince her to change it."

"It's not that simple."

"It is that simple. I seriously doubt sleeping with you was on her plan, and you got her to change her mind about that, didn't you?" I shrugged. "Ball up, Alcide. You finally found a woman that makes you smile; a woman that _I _actually approve of and like; don't let your Debbie Pelt insecurities take over. That was fifteen years ago, and she was a stupid teenager."

I opened my mouth to say something and immediately closed it when I saw Sookie walking towards us. She looked beautiful this morning. Who was I kidding? She looked beautiful every time I saw her. I had thought I could burn out on her, use her up until I didn't want her anymore, but that wasn't happening. If possible, I wanted her more now than I ever did. But I wanted her to make the decision between Shreveport and Boston; between me and Bill Compton. Say what she might, I remembered how she looked when I first met her – the stars in her eyes when Bill Compton walked into the room. If I was a betting man, I would bet anything that the final item on her five year plan was Bill Compton. And while that irritated me, more than anything, it made me question my ability to keep her.

The week was going by faster than I wanted it to, and there was no way to slow down time. The lazy Sunday we'd spent in bed more than made up for by the frantic pace at Belle Rive on Monday. We got more accomplished than I would have thought possible, but we were both too exhausted to do much of anything on Monday night, opting for Chinese and a movie over our plans to go to a baseball game.

Tuesday morning rolled around too early, and I woke up to find myself alone in bed. Sookie had mentioned an early call with Bill's assistant Daphne regarding the party this coming Saturday, and I knew she was going to leave early, but that didn't help my disposition at all. I didn't like waking up alone.

Sookie wasn't at Belle Rive when I got there at seven, and when ten o'clock rolled around and she still hadn't shown up, I started to get worried. I checked my phone for a missing call or text, frowning when there was nothing. At the first opportunity, I closeted myself in the kitchen and called her.

"Susannah Stackhouse," her voice said in answer over the phone.

"What's that about Princess?" I asked with a laugh.

"Oh," she said, sounding formal. "Hello Alcide. Is there a problem?"

"What?" I asked. "Is something wrong Sookie?"

"No, of course not," she insisted.

"Then why aren't you here? And why in the hell are you using your professional tone with me?"

"Yes," she said in response to an unasked question. "We should be there soon. We're just leaving Shreveport now."

"We?" I asked, dreading the answer I was afraid of.

"Yes. Bill flew in this morning. Isn't that wonderful?" She was acting. Even knowing that, all I wanted to do was punch something. Why in the hell did Bill show up three days before he was supposed to? And why was Sookie putting on a damn act around him? Maybe I was right. Maybe Sookie wanted to go back to Bill and her plan. Maybe our rendezvous was going to end just like that. A feeling of dread sat in the pit of my stomach.

"It fucking sucks, Sookie," I responded.

I heard her gasp over the phone, and immediately recover. "We can discuss that issue later," she said. "We'll be there by eleven."

The next hour was torture. I imagined Sookie in one of her prim little business suits prancing around in front of Bill. She'd taken to dressing slightly more casually around the workplace lately, but I was guessing it was back to Business Suit Barbie since Bill was in town, and I was right.

Light poured through the door as she walked through, bouncing off her blond hair as she laughed at something Bill said behind her. I stayed back, assessing my competition thoroughly. There wasn't much I didn't know about Bill Compton; people like him didn't change much over the years. He was nice enough, and I may have even liked him in a different setting, but any fond feelings I may have had towards him had been wiped out the minute my lips touched Sookie's. All I could think about was how he was wrong for her, how he stifled every creative bone in her body as he tried to make her a society woman; and moreso, how she let him.

"Hello Alcide," Bill said, taking a step forward and offering his hand. I shook it reluctantly, forcing myself to smile at him. He may be my competition, but he was still the one cutting the paycheck. And while the exposure Sookie would get would be much bigger on this project than anything we would, I didn't want to risk the work we'd done because the girl I was sleeping with happened to have a thing for him. Or, at least, used to.

"Bill," I said, releasing his hand. "You're early." Yes, I was the master of the obvious.

"I had a cancellation on one of my other projects. I thought I'd come down here and check it out, make sure everything was ready for the big party. Doesn't look like there's much left to do."

"Nope," I said, shoving my hands in my pocket and avoiding looking in Sookie's direction. "Susannah and I seem to fit together better than I expected."

"You certainly do," Bill said. If only he knew.

"This is exactly what I had hoped it would look like," he continued. "I could tell the progress was good in the pictures, but it is different seeing it in person."

"Sure is." God, he was boring.

"If you don't mind, I'm going to steal Susannah away here and have her give me a tour."

"Not at all." I minded. Fuck yes I minded.

I watched as Bill led Sookie up the stairs, his hand placed gently on the small of her back. I wondered what he would do if I punched him in the face; would he cry?

They were up there for a long time; far too long as far as I was concerned. We'd been up there for less time when I'd gotten her naked and writhing on the bathroom counter. Images of their naked bodies crossed my mind and I felt sick. I needed to keep busy. Sookie wouldn't do that with Bill; not here; not until we were officially done.

I heard the sound of her heels on the stairs what seemed like hours later, and looked up in time to see her smile at him. Her hand was tucked in the crook of his arm as he led her downstairs. He treated her like a fragile china doll; like she'd break if you let her out on her own. She wasn't. She was strong, and capable of taking care of herself. Any man that thought otherwise was an idiot.

"The master bath is perfect," Bill said, standing in front of me. "That extra counter space is going to be really useful someday." Yeah, it was useful. I should know. I looked over at Sookie and saw the flush rise up the neck of her dress. She was thinking the same thing I was; I knew it.

"There certainly are a lot of uses for a space like that, Bill," I said, though my eyes stayed trained on Sookie. "Susannah here got a great deal of pleasure when we were finished. Isn't that right?"

She scowled at me, covering it quickly with a smile in Bill's direction. "Yes. It's one of my favorite parts of the house."

Bill looked between the two of us and shook his head with a laugh. "I can't even begin to tell you how happy I am that you two were able to work together. Hopefully we can make the magic happen again."

Sookie smiled at Bill and simpered – fucking simpered at him. Bill had little to do with the magic that had happened between Sookie and me, aside from the introduction.

"I believe Daphne arranged for us to do a tasting today Susannah," Bill said, looking down at his Rolex. "If we want to make it to Monroe in time, I believe we had best get on the road. You understand of course," he continued, turning to me.

I nodded. Sure, I understood. For some reason, Bill Compton needed to take his project manager to go sample cucumber sandwiches and whatever other ridiculous finger food he thought would be good on the menu. You would have thought it would be more important that she was here in the final hours, overseeing the last minute touches, but apparently her expertise in industrial design was put to better use at the caterer.

Bill's Blackberry rang, and he excused himself, telling Sookie that he'd be a minute before walking out the front door. Sookie waited silently until the screen door closed behind Bill before saying anything.

"Are you trying to embarrass me?" she asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh hush. What was all that talk about pleasure in the bathroom?" She shook her head.

"Was I wrong? I thought I was just telling him the truth."

"You're terrible!" she said, though I could see the laughter brimming in her eyes.

"You love me for it." The words were out of my mouth before I could think to take them back. Her eyes widened and she froze as she looked at me. She opened her mouth to say something, but I'd never know what it was, because at that exact moment, Bill called for her from outside.

"I've got to go," she said.

"Are you coming over tonight?"

"I don't know…"

"Come," I insisted, reaching out and brushing my hand against hers.

"I'll try."

"You'd better."

.

She came. I wasn't sure that she would when it was nine-thirty and I was sitting on my couch watching baseball. In fact, I was in the middle of giving myself a pep talk when I heard the knock on the door. And just like that, she was standing in front of me.

"Hey," she said, brushing past me and flopping down on the couch I'd vacated. She unceremoniously took off her shoes and tucked her feet under her body.

"Hey yourself," I responded, shutting the door behind me and sitting down next to her. "Busy day?"

She nodded, curling herself into me. "I forgot how hard it is to be _on _all the time." She nuzzled her head into my shoulder, sighing when she found a comfortable spot. "I never really noticed it before; I guess I was used to it."

"Mmm." I rested my cheek on the top of her head and ran my hand over her bare arm. "You should probably stop then."

"If only it were that easy."

There were a thousand things I wanted to say. I wanted to tell her that it could be that easy, that she needed to stop pretending to be someone else and let the Sookie I'd come to know out. Susannah was fine and dandy, but there were a thousand Susannahs in every town. If people didn't like her for who she really was, then screw them. But I didn't want to fight with her. Bill's return had made the question of our future that much more relevant, and I wanted to push it off for at least one more night.

"We missed you today," I said instead. Truth was, I had missed her. More than I wanted to admit. "Belle Rive wasn't the same without the clacking of your heels and you yelling at everyone. Hoyt looked downright lost without you."

She tilted her head up and smiled at me. "I'm sure you all found a way to manage without me."

"You'd be surprised."

"Tell me everything," she said, wrapping her arms around my waist. "Did you get everything set in the kitchen?"

"Yep," I said. "And the landscapers got most of their planting done. I think we're going to be good to go."

"Good," she said. "I thought Daphne was going to drive me crazy today with all of her lists and questions. She'll be glad to hear that we're nearly done."

"I seem to recall not so long ago that you went everywhere with your little notebook," I teased. "I would've thought you'd appreciate someone with that kind of attention to detail."

"She can have it," she said. "Someone taught me that I didn't need a checklist for everything."

"Sounds like a smart guy."

"Very smart," she said, burying her face into my neck. "And incredibly sexy."

"Oh yeah?" I asked, instinctively tightening my arms around her.

"Yeah." Her lips trailed up to my ear, gently biting my earlobe.

"What else?"

She laughed and I felt her lips curve against my neck. "Are you fishing for compliments, Alcide?"

"Maybe. You offering?"

She shook her head, and pulled my lips down to meet her laughing mouth. The innocent touch of her lips turned hotter, more intense. My hands dropped to her waist, and I pulled her onto my lap for a better angle.

"You know when I said we missed you?" I asked between kisses.

"Yeah," she panted, her eyes darkened with desire.

I pulled back slightly, placing my hands on either side of her face and looked into her eyes. "I meant that _I _missed you."

She smiled and turned her head, planting a kiss on the palm of my hand. "I missed you too Alcide."

Her admission gave me the courage to say what I'd been thinking all day. "I don't like when you're out with Bill."

She shook her head and closed her eyes. "It's my job, Alcide."

"I know." I didn't expect her to like it, but I couldn't hold it back any longer. "But that doesn't mean I have to like it."

"No," she said, shaking her head. "I guess you don't."

"I didn't say it to make you mad. I don't want to fight about it," I said, resting my forehead against hers. "I just needed to get it out there."

She was silent for a minute, completely still against me. "I'm glad you told me," she said finally. "In a world where everyone pretends to be something they aren't, the one thing I can always count on from you is honesty."

At that moment I wanted to tell her everything. I felt guilty that I'd been less than truthful with her. Maybe Janice was right and I was being ridiculous not telling her how I knew Bill. She'd shared her past with me, something that I knew wasn't easy for her. I knew that the longer I waited, the worse it would be, but there was still a part of me that was afraid to tell her until I knew she was over that silly notion she had in her head about Bill Compton when I first met her.

Before I could even make up my mind, she continued. "We're the same, you and me. We made something of ourselves without life being handed to us. It's the reason I am able to be here with you like this. I don't have to pretend to be something I'm not. I've been around people born with a silver spoon far too long, and it changed me. Thanks for helping me find myself again."

I'd tell her tomorrow. Probably.


	21. Chapter 21

And if you save yourself  
You will make him happy  
He'll keep you in a jar  
And you'll think you're happy  
He'll give you breathing holes  
Then you'll think you're happy  
He'll cover you with grass  
And you'll think you're happy  
Now

~Nirvana; Sappy

**Chapter 21**

**SPOV**

Bill's arrival had been a bit of a shock. I'd reluctantly left Alcide's bed and had just walked through the door when the email came through from Bill himself, telling me he'd landed in Shreveport and had hoped that I was available for an early morning meeting.

I knew Alcide wouldn't be thrilled with his arrival, and truth be told, I wasn't either. Every minute I spent with Alcide made me want to avoid the inevitable conversation about what happened when the job was over. With Bill here, it became tangible; there was no way we could put it off any longer.

If someone had told me six weeks ago that I would be in this position, I would have thought they were crazy. Six weeks ago I was on track with my plan. Six weeks ago, I had hated Alcide Herveaux. Yet here I was, stuck between my five-year plan and the giant freaking curveball that came in the form of one very attractive contractor. I never would have guessed that I would want anything other than the life I had been leading in Boston; the life that included Bill. But when I was with Alcide, I didn't have to pretend to be something I wasn't. I didn't have to hide my past as a poor Southern girl. I could be Sookie Stackhouse without having to worry about the consequences.

And Alcide seemed to understand and respect my need to separate my business personality from my every day personality in a way I never thought Bill could. Then again, maybe I wasn't giving Bill a fair shake. I had never tried to be anyone other than perfect Susannah around Bill, but he seemed to enjoy that. Alcide never liked Susannah. He liked Sookie. He liked me.

And yet, here I was sitting across the table from Bill eating dinner in a candlelit restaurant on Thursday before the party, while Alcide waited for me at my hotel.

They were such different men. Bill looked perfect as usual in his chocolate brown suit tonight. It was tailored to his body, and fit him perfectly. There was never anything out of place with Bill, which is exactly why I liked him. When we were together, there was no chaos. Everything was pre-planned and I always knew what to expect.

Alcide, on the other hand, was like a cyclone. The thought of him in a suit, while attractive, almost made me laugh. His body wasn't built for suits – it was too muscular, too raw to be confined in anything. The man was made for t-shirts and jeans, and he knew exactly how to wear them. He also knew how to not wear clothes pretty darn well. The last I'd seen him, he'd been wet and naked, fresh out of the shower he'd insisted on joining me in. I wondered what he'd be wearing when I returned.

Oh, I knew that it was wrong to be thinking about Alcide's state of dress, or undress, while I was at dinner with Bill, but I couldn't seem to control myself. When it came to Alcide, it was as if all the control that I had worked so hard to refine was wasted. It took incredible effort to push the thought of Alcide aside as I looked across the table at Bill.

"Susannah, I can't even begin to tell you how pleased I am with Belle Rive," Bill said, smiling at me. "It is beyond anything I could have imagined."

"It has turned out quite beautifully, hasn't it?" He nodded. "It has been one of my favorite projects of yours to work on, not to mention some of the best work Stackhouse Design has completed. But then again, the starting material was easy to work with."

"It always was a beautiful house, but I do not think anyone could have done half the job you did." His eyes were full of admiration, and something else I couldn't quite identify as he looked at me. Usually Bill's emotions and motivations were easy to read, but there was something different tonight and it made me slightly nervous.

"Thank you," I said, and reached for my wine glass. "Though I cannot take full credit for what was done. You know I was skeptical to use anyone but Tray Dawson and his team, but Herveaux and Sons was phenomenal to work with. And I can honestly say that I am not sure that it would have been done without Alcide. He has been an integral part of the process."

Bill knew that I was always honest in my assessments. If anything, I was fair and I liked to give credit where it was due. While I was sure I would continue to use Tray for projects up north, adding Herveaux and Sons to my list of contractors would only improve my retinue. Except for the one small fact that Alcide and I were sleeping together, they were nothing but professional. And I couldn't really place the blame on Herveaux and Sons, or even Alcide for that matter.

"Yes, Alcide is excellent." Bill chuckled and shook his head. "I have worked with him on many projects, and he has never steered me wrong on any of them. I know I can always count on him to get the job done exactly as I'd like. You're quite similar in that respect actually. Between the two of you, I do not think there is anything that couldn't get accomplished."

"I'm sure we could find something," I said with a smile.

Bill smiled and shook his head. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to claim my extensive knowledge of Alcide Herveaux over you. There isn't much he can't do, once he sets his mind to that. For as long as I've known him, there's nothing he's wanted that he hasn't gotten."

I supposed I could be counted in that lot.

"Have you known Alcide for very long?" I asked out of curiosity. Alcide had never discussed his relationship with Bill with me. If I were a paranoid person, I'd think there was something he didn't want me to know.

"Since we were children," Bill said. "Our fathers knew each other quite well."

The thought of William Compton, Sr lowering himself to befriend the owner of a contracting business made me laugh. I had only met the man one time before he passed away, but one time was enough to know that he was an elitist in the most extreme sense of the word. Having been born into wealth had given him a sense of entitlement that thankfully had not been passed on to Bill.

"And," Bill continued, "since we would stay in Shreveport while visiting Aunt Caroline, we often ran into each other at social events." He chuckled to himself and continued. "I always wished I could be a part of their family. Jackson was always so open and friendly, where Father wasn't overly affectionate. You'd hardly guess they ran in the same circles."

"And Alcide," Bill continued, "much like his father, has worked hard at making something of himself. Funny when you think that he could have done anything he wanted, or nothing at all for that matter."

My mind was racing as I tried to process Bill's conversation. There was something missing still, like the last piece of the puzzle that was missing. "I thought he always worked with his father," I said slowly.

"He has," Bill said. "That's my point. He could have easily lived off his inheritance, and yet he, like his father before him, chose to work for a living. They're an admirable breed, the Herveauxes."

"Inheritance?" I asked, for once at a loss for words. "I didn't realize…" Didn't realize what exactly? That he was a secret millionaire? That he claimed a kinship with Bill? That all his talk of working to get to his place in the world was bullshit?

My head was swimming. I couldn't focus on anything. Why hadn't Alcide told me this before? He'd had plenty of opportunities, but he'd hidden it. The only question was why?

"But enough about Alcide," Bill said, oblivious to my onset panic attack. "Susannah, there is something I'd like to discuss with you. As you know, we've been working together for these past years, and I would hope that you would agree that we've moved beyond a working relationship."

I nodded, unable to form any words. I shouldn't be this upset over something so simple. Alcide hadn't told me his past. Big deal, right?

"I've come to admire you more than you can ever know." Bill continued to speak, but I couldn't focus on what he was saying. So Alcide Herveaux had money. Lots of money from what I could gather. Why did it matter?

It mattered because I had to find out from Bill, and not the man I was sleeping with himself. God, I was such a fool. I realized he had money from the size of his house, but I would never have guessed he'd grown up in Bill Compton's world. And why would he want to leave that world to be a contractor? Or, more importantly, why did he think that I was good enough to sleep with, but not important enough to share this with? Or, even worse, that he felt that he had to hide it from me.

I knew Bill was talking, though I honestly had not heard a word he said. It was like I was a million miles away, watching the conversation happen, and not able to understand any of it. I was pulled out of my thoughts when Bill reached across the table and took my hand in his.

"I do so hope you'll agree," he said, looking at me expectantly.

I licked my lips and looked at the earnestness in his eyes as he waited for my answer to a question I had no idea what it was about.

"Of course," I said, with a nod. Whatever it was, I was sure that I would have agreed anyway. Bill never asked me questions that were surprising. Bill, unlike Alcide apparently, was pretty straightforward with me.

"Excellent," he said with a smile, and gently squeezed my hand. "We can discuss it further once we get back to Boston. There is too much to do in these next few days to add that in. And now that I know you agree, I can be patient."

.

We left the restaurant shortly thereafter, and Bill was ever the gentleman as he drove back to the hotel. He had tried to insist on walking me to my door, and had given me a lingering embrace when I rejected his offer. Any other time, I may have tried to analyze it, but right now my head was too full of the other man in my life to do more than brush it off.

Alcide was waiting where I'd left him when I opened the door. He looked up and smiled at me, his eyes roaming over my face and body in the process. He looked so at ease sitting there on the couch watching baseball. I almost couldn't believe what Bill had told me about him, but something at the back of my mind kept nagging me. Dressed in his jeans and t-shirt, he was such a contrast to Bill. Only, maybe he wasn't so different from Bill after all.

"Hey Princess, how was dinner?" he asked, patting the seat next to him.

I didn't respond, walking slowly towards him and perching on the arm of the sofa instead of next to him. He quirked an eyebrow at me and let out a sigh. "Something wrong?" he asked. "What did Compton do now?"

"Bill didn't do anything," I said, picking at my fingernails. It was a nervous habit, but now wasn't the time to do anything about it. "How was your night?"

Alcide turned the TV off and looked at me. "It was fine. It would have been better if you were here instead of at dinner with Bill though. I'm sure I could find better things to do with you."

I leaned back and crossed my ankles. "Because you're so different from Bill, right?"

His eyes scanned my face before closing. "What do you mean Sookie?"

"I just asked a question," I said with a shrug.

"That was a loaded question and you know it. What did you mean?"

I smoothed my skirt down, avoiding looking in his eyes. "Would you say you trust me, Alcide?"

"What?" he asked. "Of course. Of course I do."

"Hmmm. Would you say that what we have is built on honesty?"

"Sookie-"

"Answer the question," I commanded, my eyes meeting his for the first time since I returned.

"What did Bill tell you?" he asked. He sounded wary. He knew exactly where this was going.

"Answer the question, Alcide."

"What's wrong, Sookie?" he asked, scooting towards me and resting his giant hand on my leg. "Why are you so upset?"

I shook my head, pushing his hand away. "Dinner with Bill was really interesting Alcide. Want to know why?" He didn't answer. "We had an interesting conversation about you. Bill told me about how he knew you."

"Yeah?" he asked, a tinge of nervousness in his voice.

"Yes," I responded. "Funny how you didn't mention that you went grew up with Bill."

"It must've slipped my mind."

"Yes. Well, it must be horribly embarrassing to have such a terrible memory."

"What else did he tell you?" Alcide asked, proceeding cautiously.

"He didn't go into great detail, and I wouldn't expect him to. Why don't you tell me about your childhood, Ricky Stratton?"

"What?" he asked. "Ricky Who?"

"Ricky Stratton?" he shook his head. "Silver Spoons. Boy millionaire?"

He shook his head and sat back against the couch with a sigh. "It wasn't like that."

"What was it like, then?" I asked sarcastically. "Did you have a debutante ball, wear a pretty white dress as you were presented into society?"

"Not quite. Though I did get a white t-shirt for my fifteenth birthday."

"A t-shirt? Wow. Impressive. What did your prep school friends say about that?"

"I didn't have any prep school friends," he said soberly.

"That's hard to believe."

"It's true," he said with a shrug. "My family wasn't like anyone else's family. My dad started his business before I was born and actually worked. Their fathers all yachted on the weekends and lived off their trust funds."

"Were you ever going to tell me? Or were you planning on continuing with the lie you wove about being a blue collar middle class guy?"

"I never lied to you," he said. "You came to that conclusion yourself."

"Bullshit," I spat, standing up. I needed to get away from him. "You had every opportunity to tell me. It's not like I hid my past from you."

He stood up warily, his entire body resigned to the fact that we were having this conversation and met my gaze. "I know," he said. "I was going to tell you."

"When?" I shrieked. "Before, or after you got a good laugh?"

"I never laughed at you Sookie. I just didn't want to tell you. I didn't want you to judge me."

"I told you everything!" I exclaimed. "I haven't told anyone about growing up in Bon Temps in ten years. I thought I could trust you, but clearly I can't since you feel the need to hide your family from me."

"I didn't hide it," he said with a groan. "You met Janice, you know Dad." I shook my head and sighed, as he continued. "The fact that we're technically wealthy isn't necessary information. It's not who I am."

"Of course it is! Everyone is a result of their family and their background. Rich. Poor. Kind. Abusive. It all matters."

"It doesn't matter to me," he said honestly. He looked over and smiled at me reluctantly. "I didn't want you to have any preconceived notions about me."

"Like what?"

"I've had women like me for my connections before. I don't like to put it out there. If you like me, you like me, not my money."

"And you thought I was like one of those women that would only like you for your money?" I asked. "Do you know how insulting that is? Do you have any freaking clue? How could you think that of me?"

"Well," he said with a shrug. "When I first met you, I thought you were chasing after Bill. And I knew the only reason anyone would chase after Bill is because of his money."

"And then?" I asked, my blood boiling. How dare he assume that about me? Yes, Bill being wealthy certainly sweetened the deal; yes his connections were better than your average bear; but I wouldn't have actually gone through with anything with him unless I actually liked him. I turned my anger towards Alcide. "You slept with me anyway? Thought I'd be fun? What happened when you got to know me? Did you still think I was a gold-digging whore?"

"I've never thought that!" he said, anger creeping into his voice for the first time this evening. "Look, this is getting out of hand. I was going to tell you."

"How can I believe you?" I asked. "How am I supposed to trust you?"

"It's not a big deal!"

"It is a big deal. It's a huge fucking deal. How you must have laughed when I went on about us being the same, about having to work for what we've made of ourselves."

"I did work for what I am," he insisted. "I haven't sat back and rested on some stupid trust fund. I work my ass off every single day. I haven't taken what was handed to me and sat around like Bill Compton."

"Don't you dare compare yourself to Bill Compton, Alcide," I said. "At least he's been upfront with what he is."

"Oh really?" he asked sarcastically, walking towards me. "So he's told you from day one that he wants to get in your pants?"

"He does not 'want to get into my pants'." I insisted, taking a step back. Alcide looked dangerous walking towards me, his eyes flashing with anger. I knew he wouldn't do anything to me, despite how angry he was, but I couldn't stop myself from moving away.

"Bullshit. I saw the way he looked at you today Sookie. A man doesn't look at a woman like that unless he has ulterior motives. Did he put the moves on you at dinner? Did he tell you how much he admires you and hopes to get to know you better?"

I squirmed uncomfortably at how closely Alcide's words echoed Bill's, but stood my ground.

"This isn't about Bill Compton," I insisted. "This is about you lying to me."

"This _is _about Bill Compton. It has _always _been about Bill Compton, and I don't fucking get it. He's not dating you. He's not sleeping with you. Why in the world would you take his word over mine without even consulting me?"

"Maybe because he hasn't lied to me. Maybe because he hasn't hidden who he is."

"And you like who he is?" he asked incredulously. "You like someone that hasn't really worked a day in his life? Someone that sits around in an office he bought with his trust fund?"

"Bill isn't like that and you know it!" I exclaimed. "He could be sitting around doing nothing, and he doesn't. What is your real problem with Bill, Alcide? Does he strike a little too close to home when you're trying to hide what you are?"

"What's my problem?" he growled. "My problem is that you're sleeping in my bed, spending every day with me, and you're still pining over Bill fucking Compton. That's my problem."

"I do not pine over Bill Compton."

"You do though. I saw the way you looked when Janice brought him up the other day, how you act when he's around, reverting straight back to Ice Princess Susannah. Fuck Sookie, how am I supposed to compete with that?"

"I wasn't aware that there was a competition," I said.

"Of course there's a fucking competition! It's good versus evil; the Empire versus the Rebel Alliance; Harry Potter versus fucking Voldemort. If you can't see by now that he'd be awful for you, then there's no fucking hope for you."

"Please leave," I said after a moment of silence.

"What?" he asked, looking over at me finally. I wouldn't look at him. I set my jaw and stared straight ahead.

"Please leave," I repeated. "I would like to be alone."

"I thought I was going to stay here," he said.

"Really?" I asked, turning to face him. "Do you think after you lied to me and called me a gold-digger that I want to climb into bed with you? I want to be alone."

"Sookie," he said, letting out a sigh. "I didn't…"

"Don't you dare Sookie me, Alcide Herveaux," I commanded. "I can't believe I was stupid enough to think this would work. Why in the hell did I ever let it become something more than just sex?" I shook my head, more directed at myself than him. "Hell, why did I even let it go as far as that?"

When he didn't make a move, I walked over to the door and opened it. "Go!" I commanded. "I do not want to spend the night with you."

Alcide stood up and walked towards me, the anger rolling off of him in waves. "Do you want to know why it's something more than sex Sookie? Do you?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Because while you were sitting around and waiting for Bill to get off his ass and do something, I actually did. And once you got to know me, got to REALLY know me, you figured out that you liked me and that sex alone wasn't enough. Like it or not Princess, what we've been doing for the past six weeks is dating."

I shook her head. "I am not dating anyone."

"Bullshit," he said, turning around and going to grab his coat. I stood in the doorway, watching him in silence as he walked back towards me and stopped when he was in front of me. I looked up at him, not saying anything. I saw the tick in his jaw and knew he was upset. Good. He should be.

"You need to learn to stop lying to yourself Princess. Maybe when you figure that out, you'll realize exactly what you're missing."

He brushed past me without another word, and didn't look back as he disappeared down the hallway.


	22. Chapter 22

**AN:** I am overwhelmed by the response the last chapter got. Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed – I never thought a fic with Alcide as the main character would be so well received. Then again, I guess I could have expected it once Joe's abs made their debut ;D

Hope you enjoy this chapter, and thanks as always to **pfloogs72** for being my experimental reader. Sometimes I'm convinced I don't speak English.

And after all the drinks and bars that we've been to,  
would you give it all up?  
could I give it all up for you?

And after all the boys and girls that we've been through,  
would you give it all up?  
could you give it all up?  
if I promise, boy, to you..

~Lady Gaga, Speechless

**Chapter 22**

**APOV**

Saturday night came too quickly. As much as I wanted to protest the party and all it stood for, there was nothing I wanted more than to see Sookie again; to make her talk to me. I had thought that she would have come to her senses by now, that'd she would come to me and tell me that she realized what a massive, fucking mistake she was making by entertaining the thought of Bill still, but she hadn't.

No, for all I knew she was off giggling at one of Bill's ill fated attempts at a sense of humor; stroking his ego; hell, maybe stroking something else. No. As pissed off as I was at her, even I couldn't think she would hop into bed with Bill Compton so quickly. The woman had integrity and a sense of dignity that wouldn't allow her to move on that easily.

I pulled into Belle Rive's drive and looked at the house in wonder. Bill's party planners had been busy since I'd left yesterday. They'd transformed the landscape with thousands of those flickering white lights and Chinese lanterns. It looked like something out of a magazine, which was probably a good thing since it was going to be featured in one.

I took a moment to collect myself in my truck. As much as I wanted to see Sookie, the last place I wanted to be was at this party tonight. Dad had made it clear that my attendance wasn't optional with Copley present, but the thought of seeing Sookie with Bill Compton made me want to punch something, and I knew that that particular sight was going to be difficult to avoid.

"Alcide!" I heard a familiar voice call as I closed the door to my truck behind me. I turned to see the owner of the voice, and gave a confused look towards the black man who was coming towards me. It wasn't until he was nearly in front of me that I realized who it was.

"Hey Lafayette," I said with a smile. He certainly looked different when he wasn't wearing a hot pink bandana and eyeliner.

"You're looking good enough to eat there," he said, raking his eyes down the front of my shirt. I shifted uncomfortably under his assessing gaze. I wasn't a homophobe, but being given the once over by a guy never did sit comfortably with me. "I wouldn't have thought you could look better than in your jeans," he continued with a lecherous wink, "but I was wrong. I can't wait until Sookie sees you."

"Uh," I said, trying to think of the appropriate way to tell him that his friend didn't particularly like me at the moment. "I don't think she-"

"Oh hush, she's trying to be a ball buster and pretend she doesn't care, but I know her too well." Lafayette tucked his hand in my arm and started to walk towards the house. "She told me all about your little fight the other night. And while you's a naughty boy for not telling her about your family, I'm on your side."

I stopped in my tracks and Lafayette turned to face me with a laugh. "What? You think I could stand to see that little peach with someone like Bill Compton?" He shook his head. "That boring ass bitch has never been good for our Sookie."

"Why don't you tell her that?" I mumbled under my breath.

"Oh I have, Mr. Handyman. She don't listen to me any better than she listened to you. But I saw the way she looked at you, and I can tell you that you've got a better chance of getting her to see the light than I do."

"I'm not so sure about that."

"Well I am," he said with a nod. "And since I'm the best friend that girl ever had, you're going to have to trust me on that. You need to get her away from Bill; tell her how you really feel about her."

"I don't-"

"Don't you play games with me Handyman. If you want to get Sookie to throw Bill to the side, you need to give her a reason to stay. Otherwise Mr. Vanilla is going to get his way and you're gonna end up crying in your Cheerios."

"What do you mean?" I asked, glaring at the man in front of me. "What does Bill want from Sookie?"

"Same thing you want," he said. "Though he's less deserving. Asked her to 'advance' their relationship the other night. Hell, I think he thinks they're 'together,' and she ain't doing nothing about it."

"Fuck." There was nothing else to say.

"You can say that again." He resumed walking towards the house, and I had nothing to do but follow behind. He stopped when his hand was on the doorknob, turning around to face me. "Don't you go messing this up again, Handyman. To put it in terms you may understand, our Sookie may be a bit of a fixer-upper, but she's worth the extra sweat."

"I know it, Lafayette," I said, nodding. "I don't mind getting a little dirty if it gets me what I want."

"I bet you don't," he said, with a laugh. "Shame you only play for her team. I wouldn't mind seeing you get a little dirty myself."

Lafayette opened the door to reveal the party that was in full swing. I was late, and not even fashionably so. My father's eyes met mine the minute I walked through the door, flashing his displeasure at my tardiness. He normally couldn't have cared less, but he'd specifically asked me to come and talk with Copley tonight. Seemed that Cope had a project Dad wanted the contract on, and he thought Belle Rive might help tip that decision in our favor.

"Alcide!" my father's booming voice called from across the sea of people. A hundred eyes turned to face me, but I only noticed one pair in a pale and drawn face.

Sookie looked beautiful. Of course she did. She was wearing a black dress that hugged every curve of her body and made my fingers itch to touch her. She looked tired, like she hasn't been sleeping well. Her eyes looked tormented as they met mine, quickly looking away when I offered her a half smile.

"Alcide!" my father called out again, pulling my attention away from my assessment of Sookie. I reluctantly turned away from her and walked over to where my father was standing with Copley and Amelia. "You're late."

"Sorry about that," I said, offering my best sheepish smile in Copley's direction. "I got caught up and didn't realize how late it was."

"Don't worry about it, my boy," Copley said, patting my back. "I was just telling your father how much I like what you and Ms. Stackhouse did on this place."

"Thank you, Cope," I said.

"Is that Indira Abbley I see over there with Susannah?" he asked, looking over my shoulder. I turned around and saw the small woman standing with Bill and Sookie, frowning when I saw the way his hand rested on the small of Sookie's back.

"Yeah," I said, turning back to face him. "_Wallpaper_ is doing a spread on Belle Rive in their September issue."

"Impressive," Copley said with a nod. "I've gotten coverage by every magazine on my projects except _Wallpaper_. Indira is an elusive woman."

"I'm sure we could get you an introduction," Dad said, drawing Copley's attention back to him. "Bill was telling me that she's got a fondness for this kind of project. I imagine you could interest her in that New Orleans project we were talking about."

I half-heartedly listened to Copley and Dad discuss the project in question. Truth be told, I was having a hard time staying focused knowing that Sookie was so close.

"I like your work too," Amelia said, sidling up to me. She looked me in the eyes and finished her glass of champagne, licking her lips afterwards.

"Thanks, Amelia," I said warily. "I didn't expect to see you here tonight. Don't you have some club opening you need to be at?"

She laughed and placed her free hand on my bicep, squeezing gently and emitting a groan that would've been better suited to the bedroom. "There's nowhere I'd rather be than here with you Alcide."

"Amelia," I warned.

She shook her head and giggled. "I saw that little designer leave the hotel last time we were here," she continued, inclining her head in Sookie's direction. "She was dressed like she was going out to fuck."

"Amelia," I seethed, my temper flaring up quickly at the mention of Sookie. "Stop."

"I didn't think that she was your type, Alcide," she said, ignoring the warning tone in my voice and shaking her head as she took a step closer. Hell, she was already so close that I thought we'd be welded together pretty darn soon. "But when I thought about it, I realized a girl like that wouldn't know anyone else in Shreveport."

I shrugged. "She's made friends."

"I'll bet she has. Tell me," her hand traveled from my bicep to my back, hidden from view by the wall behind us. "Do you always fuck the women you work with?"

"Amelia, I'm not sleeping with Stackhouse." It was true. I wasn't sleeping with her, and wasn't sure if I would ever be again. Amelia had no reason to know that I had done so in the past.

"Daddy said I could have you for my new house," she continued. "I'd love to see what you could do for me." Her free hand found its way to my backside, where she gave me a firm squeeze.

I jumped back, knocking her glass out of her hand and barely catching it before it hit the floor. The commotion had drawn the attention of some of the people in the room, most notably Sookie's. Her eyes bore into me as Amelia stepped forward and began brushing the liquid from the front of my shirt before trailing down rubbing her hand firmly across the front of my pants.

"Amelia, stop!" I said lowly, taking a step back. Sookie was gone when I turned around; I saw just the flash of her blonde head as she headed into the closed door of the kitchen. I mumbled my excuses to Dad and Copley and followed her in.

She stood against the counter, her back to me as she braced herself against the edge and stared out the window into the dark night.

"Sookie," I said, barely above a whisper. Her head snapped up and she turned around slowly to face me.

"What do you want, Alcide?"

I took a cautious step towards her, my arms falling loosely at my sides. I set Amelia's empty champagne glass down and cocked my hip to lean against the counter.

"You look tired."

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Wow, you know how to flatter a woman, don't you? I thought we'd gone over this one already."

I reached out, my fingertips tracing the air over her cheek without touching her before my hand fell back to my side. "I hear you're with Compton now."

"What?" she gasped, her hand rising to her chest. "Where did you hear that?"

"Is it true?" I asked.

"What about you and Amelia Carmichael?" she responded.

"What about us?" I knew she'd noticed, and I knew it bothered her.

"There you are!" Bill's cheerful voice called from the doorway. Even though we weren't touching, I took a step back. "Everyone was wondering where the two stars of the night had run off to." He stopped next to Sookie, reaching out to brush a stray curl off her face. "Good to see you, Alcide," he said with a friendly smile.

"You too," I growled, not taking my eyes off of her. She squirmed uncomfortably under my gaze, and turned to face Bill.

"Sorry," she said, "I just needed a minute to collect myself."

"Of course, darling," Bill said, resting his hand on her shoulder. I wanted to break every one of his fingers for touching her, and I wanted to throttle some sense into her. How could she even think that Bill Compton was an option? "Indira wants to talk to you."

Sookie's eyes lit up with excitement. I'd seen that look before, but it usually only happened when I had her stripped naked and under me. I balled my fists to keep from saying anything to that effect. She sure as hell wouldn't pick me if I embarrassed her in front of Bill. And dammit, I wanted her to pick me. I wanted her to come to her senses and run to me. As much as I wanted to think I could get over her, I knew deep down that I couldn't.

"You'll excuse us?" Bill asked, turning to face me with a smile.

"Of course," I said, leaning back against the counter. I watched as he moved his hand to the curve of her waist and led her towards the closed door. I would have thought she felt nothing, almost did until she turned her head and looked at me on the way out. Her eyes were full of confusion and anger, but most of all, they was full of the desire I could put there.

Like it or not, I was going to talk to Sookie tonight. I'd let her have her space, let her get through the party, but I sure as hell wasn't going to go to bed until I had her alone once more.

…

The party was a veritable Who's Who of Southern gentry. Every family was represented at Belle Rive, which was quite an accomplishment given the out of the way nature of the property. Leave it to Tabitha Compton to persuade the mountain to come to Moses.

As with every social gathering, the ending wasn't nearly as pretty as the beginning. Healthy status competition, combined with champagne always led to drunken stumbling and rumors flying. I had done my part to stay away from Amelia for the majority of the night, but when Dad asked me to drive Amelia back to the hotel so that he and Cope could discuss the next project, I could hardly decline.

Sookie was standing next to her gold SUV when I walked Amelia to my truck. She was forcefully shoving Lafayette into the passenger's seat and I could hear his lilting voice carry across the air as he protested her ministrations.

I knew the minute he spotted us and let out a groan when he hopped out of the car. "Hello Handyman!" he called out, stumbling over his feet. He wasn't the only one that had drunk a little too much champagne tonight. I'd seen more than one of the social elite get escorted out to their car.

"Who is that?" Amelia asked with a sneer. I looked down at her pixie-like frame and shook my head. "He looks like a hobo."

"Don't worry about it," I said, unlocking my truck from a distance. "Just get in the truck." She huffed, but followed orders as I walked over to Sookie and Lafayette.

"You's lookin' fine tonight Handyman. You got any nails to go with that hammer in your pants?" Lafayette asked, laughing at his own joke. I looked over at Sookie, who was doing her best to avoid looking back at me.

"You need help?" I asked.

She shook her head, still not looking in my direction. "I've got it."

"Going back to the hotel?"

"Yes." She looked up at me. Finally. "You taking Amelia back to your house?"

"I'm not even going to dignify that with an answer." She shrugged. "Dad asked that I drive her back to the hotel. To your hotel."

She didn't say anything, and I dug my hands in my pockets to stop from reaching out to touch her.

"I'll follow you. You've got my cell if you need help."

She nodded, turning around and climbing into the driver's seat. Lafayette followed suit, though he gave me a few catcalls as I walked away.

I loosened my tie and took off my sport coat before I climbed inside. No point in wearing the monkey suit anymore. The drive back to Shreveport was damned long when Amelia Carmichael was sitting in my car. When she wasn't entertaining me with stories of her sexual exploits, she was trying to convince me to help her make some more.

"Come on, Alcide," she purred, unbuckling her seatbelt and closing the distance between us. "We'd be real good together."

"I've told you no a thousand times, Amelia." I looked straight ahead, doing my best to ignore her hot breath in my ear. Funny how the same move by Sookie turned me on in an instant; with Amelia, I wanted to take a shower. A hot, scalding shower that would wash her off of me.

"Just one night," she said. "One night to show me exactly what kind of heat you're packing."

"Not happening," I insisted, pushing her away. "Now stay on your side of the truck, and buckle that damned seatbelt."

Amelia huffed and returned to her seat, the click of her seatbelt echoing in the otherwise silent cab of my truck.

It would be my luck that I'd get stuck with an inebriated Amelia Carmichael tonight. At least Sookie had her hands full with her own inebriated friend, and not full with Bill Compton. The thought of his hands on her tanned skin made my stomach turn. His hands didn't belong there; mine did.

"I don't get it," she said. "I'm way hotter than her."

I didn't respond.

"She looks like an icy bitch," she continued. "I bet she just lays there like a dead fish." Far from it actually, but I wasn't going to deem Amelia's tirade with a response. "I'm very adventurous in the bedroom," she said, changing tactics. "I'm open to anything. And I mean anything."

"Just stop Amelia," I groaned, thankful when I saw the sign for their hotel. I pulled into a parking space next to Sookie's SUV and put the car in park, looking over at the tiny figure in my passenger's seat. "I don't know how to say it any more clear than this. I. Don't. Want. To. Fuck. You. In fact, I don't even want to talk to you. Ever."

I opened the driver's door and was out before she could say anything in response. I watched as Sookie tried to get Lafayette out of her car, and walked over to offer my assistance.

"I've got it, thank you," Sookie barked, pushing me away.

"Don't be absurd. The man is twice your size." Lafayette smiled at me and called me a name I didn't dare repeat. "I'll take him to his room. What number?"

"612. What about Amelia?" Sookie asked spitefully.

"What about her?" I asked, hooking my arm around Lafayette's waist as I hoisted him up next to me. The son of a bitch was heavier than he looked.

"Don't you want to escort her to her room?"

"Shit Sookie," I said, not caring if Lafayette heard a word. "If you think I can get over you enough in two days to hop into the sack with someone else, then maybe you never really knew me at all."

I turned around and began walking towards the front of the hotel, Lafayette hanging limply at my side, the only noise his occasional laughter as his hands went places they shouldn't have gone. I could feel Sookie's eyes on me, but was too angry to say anything. How could she possibly think that I wanted to fuck Amelia?

I heard the heels of Sookie's shoes click on the pavement behind me, followed by Amelia's drunken stumbling. She'd make it back to her room okay; Amelia always managed to land on her feet.

The concierge didn't glance twice at us as we walked in, even though I was sure we made quite a sight. It was a nod to the finest hotels, where guests could not do anything that received a negative reaction from the staff.

I carried Lafayette into the elevator, and waited a little less than patiently for Amelia and Sookie to get on.

"What floor are you on, Amelia?"

"Six," she said with a drunken smirk. "Why? You coming to my room. I do so want you to come."

Sookie made a disgusted sound at the innuendo, and turned her attention to the panel on the elevator, where she angrily pressed the buttons for the two drunkards.

When we reached the sixth floor, I followed Amelia off with the increasingly heavy form of Lafayette Reynolds attached to my side. I turned my head to look back into the elevator, into Sookie's accusatory blue eyes right as the doors slid shut.

Mother fucker.

Amelia was silent as I dug in Lafayette's pockets for his room key, which was a good thing considering all the noise Lafayette was making. "Oh, right there Handyman," he said, when my hand went into his front pocket. "A little to the left."

"Shut the fuck up Lafayette," I growled, pulling the key from his pocket and pushing his door open. He danced inside, stripping off his jacket and tie as he sashayed over to the empty bed.

"Care to join me? Sookie sure don't look like she's going to be putting out for you tonight."

I shook my head, and spun on my heel without another word. I'd done my duty. He was safe and in his bed.

I couldn't say as much for the little brunette that had been pestering me all night. The minute Lafayette's door was shut behind me, she pounced. Her mouth latched onto the side of my neck, and she began whispering obscene suggestions for what she was offering.

"Get off me Amelia," I growled, pushing her away from me. Her eyes glowed with anger as she looked at me, and spun around on her heel. She didn't say anything as she stomped to her room, though the door slamming behind her was message enough.

I stood in the middle of the empty hallway and couldn't stop myself from laughing. What a fucking disaster of a night. I had been propositioned by just about everyone, except the one person who I actually would take up on the offer.

My thoughts travelled to the eighth floor, where I knew Sookie was alone in her hotel room. I wondered what she was doing, if she'd taken off those sky-high heels, or those dark nylons she'd been wearing.

Before I knew it, I was back on the elevator, pressing the button to get to her floor. The minute the door opened, my feet carried me towards the familiar door that I should have known that I couldn't stay away from. I raised my hand and knocked when I got to her room, cursing myself under my breath as I waited for her to answer.

The door swung open and Sookie stood on the other side, mocking me with a quirk of her eyebrow as she crossed her arms over her chest. "I think you've got the wrong room."

"I'm just where I'm supposed to be," I said, not waiting for an invitation as I pushed the door open and walked inside past her.

"Don't tell me that you're done with Amelia already? Poor thing," she said, her voice heavy with sarcasm. "I know how quick you can be."

"You never seemed to have any complaints," I said, walking into the living room of her suite.

She shrugged and sat down on the white sofa; the same white sofa that we'd been on in much different conditions not too long ago.

"What do you want, Alcide?"

"We need to talk, Sookie."

"I think you said plenty the other night, unless you're looking to take some of it back. But I'm not sure I even want to hear that."

I ignored her words, walking over and sitting on the coffee table directly across from her. "You didn't answer me earlier. Are you with Bill now?"

"What?" her eyes widened, and she shook her head.

"Answer the question. Did Bill ask you to make your relationship a bit more personal?"

She bit her lip and looked down at her hands. "Maybe."

"Fuck, Sookie," I growled. "That was quick."

"That doesn't mean I'm _with _him though!" she insisted, her eyes flying up to meet mine. They were stormy with emotion as she shook her head.

"What did you say?" Maybe I was shooting myself in the foot here, but damned if I didn't want to know every excruciating detail. Well, maybe not the bits if he'd gotten her naked; that I didn't think I could take.

"I didn't say anything."

"Nothing?"

"I didn't say yes," she said, setting her chin firmly.

"But you didn't say no either?"

She shook her head.

"Well, Princess, looks like you're getting a shot at what you've always wanted. Little Mr. Ivory Tower. I didn't think you had it in you to move on so fast; guess I was wrong about you."

"Like you're one to talk," she said, throwing her hands up in frustration. "You're the one that had that trampy socialite hanging all over you. Hell, I thought she might just eat you right there on the spot at the party."

"You noticed," I said with a smirk.

"The entire party noticed!" she said. "It's not like you were very secretive about it."

I leaned forward, my elbows on my knees as I surveyed her. "Did it make you jealous, Sookie?"

She scoffed and shook her head. "Is that why you're here? Is that what you want to hear? Fine. If that was your attempt to make me jealous, bravo. Mission accomplished."

That hadn't been my purpose, but fuck if I didn't enjoy the result. Jealous Sookie was more than welcome; at least it gave me something to work with.

I dropped my hands, my palms resting gently on her silk-covered kneecaps. She jumped at my touch, her breath quickening as my hands rested on her legs. "You're the one that left me for Bill."

"I didn't leave you for Bill!" she said, standing up and stepping away from me. "You lied to me, and I don't stand for liars."

"Maybe I wouldn't have felt the need to hide it if I didn't feel like you were always comparing me to Bill."

"There is no comparison!"

"Bullshit."

"There's no comparison, because there is no way to compare you. Bill doesn't drive me crazy," she said. "I don't lose focus when I'm with him. He doesn't make me forget what I've always wanted."

"Maybe," I said, lowering my voice to the point where she had to lean forward to hear me. "Maybe what you've wanted has been wrong all along. Maybe what you really want is standing here in front of you. Maybe what you really want is what you've had these past few weeks."

"Sometimes wanting isn't enough," she said, standing up and looking down at me. "Sometimes what you want hurts you." She closed her eyes and shook her head. "I want you, of course I do. I'd be lying if I said anything else. But you, Alcide Herveaux? You're something that would hurt me, and I don't want to be hurt."

She was being so pragmatic, so Susannah about the whole thing. It pissed me off. I wanted her to shed Susannah for good, to let the emotional woman I knew was deep inside out once and for all. "How can you be so clinical, Sookie? How can you stand there and tell me you want me and turn me away?"

"_I_ have to be my top priority," she said, pointing at her chest. "Not you. Not Bill. Me. And you…you're a risk I can't take anymore."

"Sookie," I whispered, standing up. She was so close that I could feel the silk of her dress brush against my legs; feel her breath as it fluttered across the open neck of my shirt.

"No," she shook her head. "Please go, Alcide," she said, her voice brimming with sadness. "Let me go."

She turned around and walked down the hallway towards the bathroom. I stared after her, frozen in shock as I tried to process what she said. There was no way I was going to leave it like this. I had never wanted anything as much as I wanted Sookie Stackhouse; I wasn't going to give up so easily.

I walked after her, closing the distance between us until I was close enough to touch her. I clasped her hand in mine and spun her around, bringing her startled face within inches of mine.

"Is that what you want, Sookie?" She looked at me without saying a word. "Is it? Do you really want to throw this all away to be safe? Do you really want to be with Bill? To move into his house in Boston and produce his children? Do you want to always be Susannah Stackhouse who never has a hair out of place?"

"It wouldn't be like that-"

"It would," I insisted, with a shake of my head. "Do you want to ignore all that passion you've got inside yourself? You remember what that was like, keeping everything locked away and compartmentalized? Now that you've let yourself go, can you really go back to that? Calculated romance; planned sex? Is that what you want Sookie?"

She looked at me and shook her head. "It wouldn't be like that."

"Has he touched you, Princess?" I asked, backing her into the wall behind her.

"No!" she gasped, her back flush with the white wall. "Of course not."

"Why not?" I asked.

"Because," she said, her voice shaking. Her body vibrated against mine, pressing against me, yearning to be closer despite her vocal protest. "I can't..."

"Can't what?" I asked. She closed her eyes, refusing to meet my gaze. Her breath was hot against my face, fluttering across my cheeks.

"I can't get over you in two days either," she spat out, her eyes opening to meet mine. The turmoil I saw there made me want to wrap my arms around her and tell her everything would be okay, that she'd never have to worry about anything again. "Because," she continued, "what I feel for you can't be erased in forty-eight hours."

I sighed, closing my eyes and resting my forehead against hers. "Then why are you trying?"

"Because it scares me, Alcide, and I don't want to be scared. I can't do this."

"Don't do this," I commanded.

"I can't do anything else. I may want you," she shook her head. "But that's not enough. Bill is the smart choice."

I looked at her for a moment, unable to formulate an argument. I was angry. Angry at her; angry at Bill; angry at the world. How could I be given something so right, and have it snatched away from me like this? There was nothing I could say that would make her change her mind; I knew that much. But that didn't mean I didn't have a chance still. I may not be able to say anything, but I could show her.

"You don't always have to be smart, Princess."

I closed the gap between our mouths, capturing her lips possessively. She squirmed beneath me, pressing her body against mine, and I was done for. She may be able to deny it verbally, but she couldn't deny this. My control broke like a well-stretched rubber band. My hands sought hers, our fingers entwining as our lips melded into each other's.

"Do you want me to stop, Sookie?" I asked, trailing my mouth along her jaw.

"No," she murmured, shaking her head.

I smiled into her collarbone, raising her hands over her head and securing them with one of mine to allow the other free, uninterrupted access.

Her breath came out in gasps as I traced the lines of her dress, my lips returning to hers as my hand traveled along her body. My fingers reached the hem of her dress, pushing it up along her thighs. I groaned when my fingers reached lace and then bare skin. She was wearing thigh highs. If I'd known that earlier, there's no way I could have left her alone as long as I had.

"Fuck," I groaned, burying my face into her neck as my hand completed the journey.

"Do you think he could do this to you Sookie?" I asked, my voice coming out in ragged gasps. When she didn't respond, I continued, "Do you think he could make you feel like this? Would your body respond to his hands like it does to mine?" I knew I was being an asshole, but I didn't care. I was too angry with her for choosing to throw away everything without good reason.

Her head shook.

"What's that?" I asked.

"Alcide," she pled. "Don't."

"Would it?" I asked again.

"No," she whimpered. "Only you."

A satisfied smile crept across my face at her admission and I resumed touching her just how I knew she liked me to until I felt her body stiffen. She whispered my name once as she came before collapsing against the wall behind her.

We would've made an interesting picture if someone came up upon us - Sookie secured between my frame and the wall, both of her hands pinned above her head with one of mine as the other had her dress pushed up, buried inside of the scrap of lace that she called underwear.

"You need to rethink your decision, Sookie Stackhouse."

And with that, I dislodged myself from her, pulling her skirt down to cover her thighs as she looked at me with lustful and confused eyes.

"You know where to find me."

And for the second time in three nights, I left Sookie Stackhouse alone in her hotel room.


	23. Chapter 23

YES! YES! JESUS H. TAP-DANCING CHRIST... I HAVE SEEN THE LIGHT!

~Jacob Papageorge alias 'Joliet' ___Jake Blues__,_ The Blues Brothers

**Chapter 23 **

**SPOV**

"What's that?" I asked, turning to face Lafayette.

It was a dreary day in Boston, which was quite uncommon for summer, but suited my mood just fine. It had been two days since I'd flown back to Boston with Bill and an incredibly hung over Lafayette. It had been the longest two days I had ever endured in my life. I couldn't sleep; couldn't eat; I couldn't manage to accomplish much of anything at all, though that hadn't prevented me from trying.

I'd gone into the office the minute the plane landed. What better way to forget about everything than to throw myself back into work? Work had always been an escape for me, from the moment I left Bon Temps as an eighteen year old right up until now. Unfortunately, now being in the office only brought up reminders of the heart of the problem.

I couldn't go ten minutes without someone mentioning Belle Rive. I got calls from former and prospective clients about it – _Wallpaper _had posted a teaser about the upcoming article, giving my name as the designer. It was the best publicity I could ask for, and the worst reminder of what I'd left behind. I'd never been busier, or more lonely.

I hated how much I missed Alcide. I had thought I was done with him the night I'd found out about his past. I couldn't stomach someone lying to me like that, not when I'd shared everything about my past; everything that I had been hiding for so long. I knew I would have to see him at the party, but I hadn't expected to feel jealous when Amelia Carmichael hung on him like a cheap leather coat. It raised my hackles to see him with another woman, even though I knew that he hadn't asked for the attention, and had gone out of his way to avoid it. It was ridiculous to be jealous of him. We had made it very clear from the get go that whatever we had would be over the minute the project was done. Hell, I'd even ended it the night before for good. Or at least, for what I thought was for good.

Yet, when he came to my hotel room, I had to fight with every muscle in my body to stop from jumping on him. And, like everything else in our relationship, fighting only intensified my desire for him. My knees buckled at the mere memory of being pressed up against the wall by him. I should have felt ashamed that I'd allowed him – nay, begged him to touch me like that, but I wasn't. It had been what I wanted; what I needed for him to do. If I had a little more time to recover, I probably would have punched him for bringing up Bill in the middle of that, but instead I stood there weak kneed as I watched him leave my hotel room. Again.

"Earth to Sookie," Lafayette said, snapping his fingers to get my attention.

I shook my head, pushing the memory of Alcide to the back of my mind. It hadn't gotten any easier to do, but I'd practiced it enough that I knew what had to be done.

"Sorry," I said, looking at the sample board Lafayette was holding up. "Um… what was the question again?"

Lafayette shook his head and laughed. "Girl, you need to get with it! You've been walking around in a daze since you got back from Louisiana."

I groaned and leaned back in my chair, tucking a stray lock of hair behind my ear. "I'm sorry," I said. "I can't seem to focus today. I didn't sleep very well last night." Or any other night since Alcide had left me against the wall of my hotel room.

"Mmmm," he said, taking a seat across from me. "I'm sure that's just one of the side effects of leaving your lover."

I groaned. "It's not like that, Lafayette. My neighbor kept me up to all hours." Having incredibly loud sex, which unfortunately reminded me of Alcide. I'd been doing so well too; I'd stayed at the office until 10:30, going home and taking one Ambien, only to be woken up at 12:30 by the shrieks from next door.

"That blond man-whore?" Lafayette asked.

"Who else?" I asked with a groan.

"You either need to get on that, or get yourself a new place to live." It was the same advice he'd given me since I'd moved into the apartment in the Back Bay two years ago and the "female friend" visits had commenced. It was advice that I was seriously considering taking – well the second option at least.

"I know," I said.

"But I'm sure that ain't the only thing keeping you up at night, Sookie Stackhouse."

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean," he said, waving his hand dismissively. "You try to pretend that you don't think about it, but I know you too well. When are you going to get off your sorry ass and give that Handyman a call? You two need to kiss and make up, though I expect you did a little more than kiss after he tucked me into my bed."

"I'm _not _going to call him," I said defiantly, ignoring his implication, no matter how true it rang. "I have nothing to say to him."

After that orgasm/ultimatum combination he'd given me, the last thing I wanted to do was call him up and tell him he was right. It didn't matter that the longer I had to reflect on it, the more I realized that I hadn't been completely honest with him either. We had an arrangement; an arrangement for mindless sex that spun out of control. Of course it did. We had walked blindly and arrogantly into the trap we'd set for ourselves. There was no way to separate sex from feelings when you spent that much time with someone.

"Sookie," Lafayette said, his voice softening. "You know I love you, but you are being one stubborn bitch."

"Why are you taking his side?" I asked defensively. "You're supposed to be my best friend!"

"I'm not taking his side," he defended. "It's just that sometimes you're too obstinate to know what's good for you."

"Alcide Herveaux is not good for me." He wasn't. He muddled things; he made me lose my head. There was no way that someone like that could be classified as good for me.

"Honey, that man is the best thing that's happened to you in years. You best do something about it before it's too late."

.

I had one shoe on when the buzzer to my apartment rang. The clock showed 6:50, which meant that he was ten minutes early.

"I'll be right there!" I called out, then silently cursed as the strap refused to work with me. After a few seconds of fiddling with the leather, I managed to get it closed.

I stood up and checked my reflection in the mirror, giving a critical eye to the cranberry dress I'd selected for the evening. It was simple and chic, and it would blend in perfectly with the other socialites at the gala. My hair had been done professionally, as had my make-up – both were surprises from the man waiting at my door.

"You're early," I said, opening the door wide and forcing myself to smile.

"Hello Susannah," Bill said, offering me a bouquet of subdued flowers. They were beautiful, of course. They looked expensive and perfect. I wouldn't expect anything less from Bill.

"Thank you." I reached out and took the bouquet from his hands, dipping my nose among the pale ivory petals. The scent was refined and tame, everything I had thought I wanted to be when it came to Bill Compton. "They're beautiful."

"Beautiful flowers for a beautiful woman," he said, offering me a smile as he stepped into my apartment. "I hope you don't mind that I'm early."

"Of course not. Come in," I said automatically, spinning around on my heel and walking towards the kitchen. "I'll just put these in water."

I heard his footsteps as they followed behind me, echoing off of the hardwood floor. He didn't say a word as I pulled out a tall, square vase and placed the flowers inside.

"Indira sent the prints over," Bill said. "I brought them with me if you'd like to take a look. There's a few in there that haven't made it onto their website yet."

I took a deep breath before turning around and facing Bill. I placed the vase on the large island between us and forced myself to smile at him. "Of course!" I said brightly; a little too brightly some might say.

He walked around the island and stopped within a step of me. The linen of his suit jacket brushed against my bare arm, and it took everything I had to not step back and widen the distance between us. Here was the man I had thought was perfect for me, in my apartment, thinking we were going on our first real date, and I wanted to put distance between us. I needed to get over this. If I was going to give Bill Compton a try – and I had spent the last thirty minutes convincing myself to give him a try – I was going to have to focus.

I forced myself to smile at him as he set the small black portfolio on the counter in front of me, opening the cover to reveal a stunning black and white picture of the exterior of Belle Rive. It had been taken as the sun was setting, the lights twinkling in the trees. It looked beautiful, ethereal, like nothing I had ever seen. And it reminded me of Alcide.

I closed my eyes and tried to push the memories of us to the side.

"It's beautiful," Bill said. His fingers brushed against mine as I reached to turn the page, his touch burning my skin as his fingers lingered there. My hand snapped back before I could control it.

"Yes, it is," I answered automatically.

"Mother was so pleased with it," he continued, either not noticing or not caring about my lack of returned affection. "She really is quite taken with it…and with you."

"Oh," I said, trying to sound as pleasant as possible with one syllable.

"Yes," he continued. "She was thrilled when I told her that you'd agreed to advance our relationship. She was apparently quite worried that I'd be a playboy forever and never settle down." He chuckled to himself, and I smiled my first genuine smile of the evening. The thought of Bill as a playboy was laughable. Yes, he was frequently with different women, but if his behavior with me was any indication, he wasn't sleeping with any of them. And he certainly wasn't leaving a string of broken hearts in his wake.

"Well," I said cautiously, "this is our first date, I don't know that I'd say you're 'settling down' quite yet."

He reached out and covered my hand in his own. "Susannah, we know each other well enough that I would hardly qualify this as our first date. I admire you. You're beautiful, intelligent…you understand me. We're alike the two of us. We've practically been dating for the past ten months, though not officially, of course."

The memory of almost those same words coming out of my mouth to Alcide shot through my mind, and my fingers tightened on the edge of the counter. It had been true with Alcide – or at least I thought it had. But I was nothing like Bill Compton, despite every effort I had made to be.

I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Thankfully Bill looked down at his watch and noted that we would be late if we didn't leave.

"We can talk more when we get back," he assured me, tucking my hand into the crook of his arm and leading me down to his waiting town car. I was thankful for the Stepford treatment; thankful that I wasn't expected to say much at all, since what I wanted to say certainly wasn't appropriate yet.

The evening was excruciatingly long; a replay of every other social gathering I'd ever attended in Boston. The ballroom at the Omni Parker hotel dazzled with the finest socialites and influential businessmen that Boston had to offer. It was all very beautiful from the outside, but being on the inside was a different scene altogether.

I played the part perfectly – I had done it enough to know what was expected of me. I simpered and smiled at the appropriate times, sharing amusing but appropriate anecdotes with Bill's friends and colleagues. It was no different than any other event I had attended with Bill, yet I'd never been so miserable in my life. Like it or not, something had changed in me when I was in Shreveport. I had embraced my history and my roots, and being in this setting just seemed incredibly vapid and unfulfilling.

I hadn't had a genuine conversation with any merit since we'd walked through the door. Within ten minutes, I realized that the women I had called my friends were nothing more than mere acquaintances. I knew everything about their appearance – from where they got their hair done, to which designers flattered their figures; but I knew nothing of them personally. I didn't know what they liked to do when they let their hair down, if they ever did let their hair down.

I looked around at the crowded room, and I felt empty. How could I have ever thought this was what I wanted to be? How could I have possibly imagined that this would be enough for me? I longed to rip my hair out of the perfect coif and relax; to be around people that understood me – the real me.

We left at a socially acceptable time, saying goodbye and air kissing the guests as we walked out the door and climbed into the waiting car. Bill slid into the car after me, sitting closer than I would have liked.

"Is everything okay?" he asked, reaching out and resting his hand on the top of my thigh. "You seem different tonight."

"Do I?" I asked, doing everything in my willpower to not push his hand off my leg.

"Yes," he nodded. "I am concerned for you. You haven't been yourself since I flew to Shreveport last week."

I laughed and shook my head. He thought I wasn't being myself? I hadn't been myself around Bill Compton ever. Maybe I _was_ being myself for once. Maybe I was finally realizing that what I wanted to be was what I always had been, and the first person that needed to know that was sitting next to me.

"I suppose I have changed somewhat," I offered, picking up his hand and removing it from my knee. "Bill," I said after a moment, "there's something I need to discuss with you."

"Anything," he said. He looked at me, the streetlights flickering across his face as the car returned to my Back Bay apartment.

"I don't think…" I couldn't believe I was about to do this. "I mean, I have thought about our conversation over dinner in Shreveport."

He smiled, clearly expecting a different response than I was about to give him.

"Where you agreed that we should move our relationship beyond professional, to more personal?"

"Yes," I said, then shook my head. "No."

He quirked his eyebrow in confusion.

"Yes, you asked," I said slowly, "but I wasn't really sure what I was agreeing to."

"Susannah – "

"No, let me finish," I said. If I didn't do it now, I didn't know when I would ever muster up the gumption to do it again. "Bill," I said with a sigh. "You are everything I ever wanted. You're handsome, successful; you run in the same circles as I do. For the past year, I've wanted nothing more than for us to be more than friends."

"Why did you not say something earlier?" he asked, with a smile, still clearly not understanding where this was going.

"Because I didn't want to jeopardize our working relationship," I said. "I admire it and you too much to put you in an awkward position."

"You don't have to do this, Susannah," he said, reaching out and taking my hand. "There is no need to worry about that, since it is what I want as well. We're in agreement." He reached up with his free hand and brushed a stray curl off my face.

"But it isn't," I said meekly.

"What's that?" he asked, his hand pausing in midair.

"It isn't," I said firmly. "I thought it was what I wanted, but it isn't." I looked up to see shock and confusion in his eyes, his hand frozen inches from my face. "I don't want to hurt you. Far from it. But I cannot pretend that I want this anymore."

"What do you mean? What don't you want?"

"I can't date you," I said, taking a deep breath. "I can't put you through this when I know that it will never work out."

"Don't be ridiculous," he said. He was smiling, but I could tell he was confused by my declaration. "We're compatible. We're alike."

"No," I said, shaking my head. "We're not. I can act the part, I can say my lines, but at the end of the day, we are nothing alike. You know nothing about who I really am."

"Then tell me," he said, as if that would fix everything.

"It's too late," I said, shaking my head. "I respect you too much to put you through this. I went down to Shreveport thinking that it would make us closer, that you would ask for just this. But along with that, I found something else. I found me. Not Susannah Stackhouse with the perfect resume, but Sookie Stackhouse, the Southern girl who likes to go bowling with friends and watch baseball games."

"I'm not the same as you Bill," I continued. "I'm not from a wealthy family; my parents don't have a yacht and a summer house in the Hamptons. I don't golf, I don't even like going to these types of events…well, not really."

"Susannah, you know that doesn't matter to me," he said, a tinge of anxiety in his voice. This wasn't going to be easy on either of us – it wasn't something I looked forward to doing, though I knew it had to be done.

"I know it doesn't," I responded. "But it matters to me. To be part of your world has always been a dream, but I realized that it can never be more than that. I cannot be true to myself when I'm with those people. I cannot tell them that I came from nothing."

"They don't matter Susannah," he said. "I do not care that you came from nothing. I admire you more for it. I like you Susannah. That's all that matters."

I shut my eyes and shook my head. "I like you too Bill, but it's not enough."

"What is?" he asked desperately.

"I don't know," I answered honestly. "I thought I knew. I thought I had it all figured out, but being back in Louisiana taught me that I don't even know what I want."

"Then let us figure it out," he said, "together."

"No," I said, shaking my head. "Sometimes what you think you want isn't right for you," I said with a smile as I recalled Alcide's words. "Sometimes what you need is something you never thought you'd want."

The car came to a stop in front of my building, and I looked out the window before turning back to face Bill. He looked stunned; shocked as he processed what I was telling him. I couldn't say that I blamed him – I hadn't given him any indication otherwise – but I hadn't known how this was going to end, or how being at the gala would make me see the light about what I wanted.

"I hope this doesn't ruin our working relationship," I said. "I want us to be able to be friends."

"If I can accept who you are, why can't we be more than friends?" he asked.

"Because," I said, closing my eyes. "I can accept who I am too. And what I am, is a person who is in love with someone else."

**AN: **Oh snap. She sees the light! Now it's just a matter of getting that pesky Alcide to forgive her. One more chapter folks!


	24. Chapter 24

The beating of my heart is a drum and it's lost and it's looking for a rhythm like you.

~Air Supply, Making Love Out of Nothing At All

**Chapter 24**

**APOV**

The sun was beating down relentlessly as I pushed the lawnmower out of my garage. I had mowed the lawn twice since the party at Belle Rive, and that had only been a week ago. I hadn't paid this much attention to my lawn in a long time. It was one of those things that I let slide when I was busy and happy. Too bad I wasn't either at the moment.

Saturday had been my favorite day of the week. It was a day when I could sleep in and relax, do whatever the hell I wanted to do. Today, I cursed the freedom. It gave me too much time to think, too much time to remember. I wanted to be busy, wanted to do anything that would keep my mind off of the blonde that had stormed into my life with her little pencil skirts and had turned my world upside down.

BS (that would be Before-Sookie) a normal Saturday would involve me sleeping in until ten or eleven and then heading out to hit the gym, maybe stopping over to see Tommy; but in my first week PS (Post-Sookie), I was up at six am. I'd lain in bed for what seemed like forever, willing myself to go back to sleep to no avail. My mind was barraged with images of Sookie, in my bed, out of my bed…anywhere. I finally gave up all hopes of going back to sleep an hour later. I laughed sardonically as I sat down and made a list of things to do to keep myself occupied. I hadn't made a list in years, well not until the Queen of List Makers walked out of my life. Now I seemed to run on them. Anything to keep my mind busy. One morning jog and one trip to the grocery store later, I found myself back where I started, sitting and staring at a blank page with no idea of what to do. I looked at the clock in the kitchen. Eleven am. Fantastic. I wondered what the neighbors would think if I started drinking at noon. They hadn't said anything when I'd started drinking at six three days ago.

It had been a week since I'd seen Sookie. Seven full, excruciating days of torture. She hadn't called, hadn't texted or emailed. Nothing. No attempts at communication. It wasn't like she was on Sputnik, she was in freaking Boston. I had expected at least some form of response after the ultimatum I left her with in her hotel room. After all that we'd gone through, you'd think I deserved at least a "no thank you." The silent treatment was killing me.

I was about to start the lawn mower when I heard my phone ring. I wish I could say that my stomach didn't flip at the sound, but it did. Even after an entire week of disappointment, I couldn't stop myself from hoping that she'd stop being so stubborn and call me.

It wasn't Sookie.

"Hello," I said.

"Have you pulled your head out of your ass yet?" my sister asked.

"Well hello to you too Janice," I said. "Nice of you to call."

"Shut up," she said. "Has she called?"

I groaned. "No." I wasn't about to elaborate.

"Have you called her?"

"No! I told you, I left it up to her."

"You're such an idiot, Alcide," she said. I could visualize her shaking her head at me. "You finally meet a nice girl who you like, and more importantly who I like, and you let her just run off like that?"

"She made the decision. Doesn't matter how much you like her; she doesn't want me, Jan," I said, sounding miserable even to myself. I could put on the tough shell with just about anyone, but not Janice. She'd witnessed the downfall of all of my relationship, she knew me too well to hide anything.

"Bullshit. I saw the way she looked at you. You don't just forget that overnight. Unless, of course, she is secretly one of the Men in Black with one of those memory eraser thingies."

"Janice!"

"Sorry," she said, though she sounded anything but. "But I mean it. That's nothing something you get over in a week. Maybe she's waiting for you to call her."

"I gave her the option, and she chose Bill."

"Alc-"

"No. She chose Bill. End of story."

"That's ridiculous. Who in the hell chooses Boring Bill Compton over you? Hell, I'm your sister, I think you're disgusting and there are all kinds of laws against it, but even I'd choose you over Bill."

"Thanks for the support Sis," I said, laughing genuinely for the first time in a week. "Good to know. But it appears you're in the minority on that one."

"Pfft. So Sookie is being stubborn. Hell, when wasn't she stubborn? That's part of her charm. But you can't sit around and wait for her forever. You've either got to get over it, or get off your sorry butt and fly up to Boston."

I had thought about it. Believe me I had thought about it. I still couldn't believe that she left me; that she would actually choose Bill still after all we had been through. Yes, I knew there were logistical road blocks to our being together, but when in the hell had that ever stopped me? So she lived thousands of miles away, big deal. Airplanes were pretty spiffy little machines for that. And once that got old, either she could move her business down here, or I could go up and work in Boston. Tray had been trying to get me up there for ages, and Dad was always looking to expand the family business up North. There were options. But apparently none of that mattered since the Ice Princess had returned to claim her ivory tower.

"I'm not going to force the issue Janice. I gave her the choice and she has made her decision."

"How could I forget? Christ, you're just as bad as she is. Stop being such a stubborn ass and go after what you want."

"I did, remember?" I'd told Janice about the hotel. Well, most everything. I certainly hadn't shared the details of having Sookie against the wall. There were some things you didn't share with anyone. Especially your sister. "I don't particularly care to be shot down twice in one week."

"Fine," she groaned. "This isn't the end of this, but obviously your head is too thick to do anything about it." I heard Tommy ask Janice who was on the phone, and closed my eyes when she covered the mouthpiece to murmur her reply. God only knew what she was telling him to emasculate me in his eyes forever. "Sorry about that," she said, coming back onto the phone. "Besides crying in your pillow, what are you doing today?"

"I'm mowing the lawn."

"Again? Jesus, you're not going to have any grass left if you keep at it."

"It's my lawn. I'm guessing there's a reason you called. What do you want Janice?" I asked impatiently.

"I want you to come over tonight and cook my son some dinner."

"Cheap trick using Tommy, Janice. But I don't have time," I lied. Oh I had time, plenty of time. I just didn't have time to sit around while Janice gave me pitying looks; that I could do without.

"What else are you going to do? Sit in a dark room and listen to Air Supply on repeat? Come on Alc, stop being such a sad sack and rejoin the living." I didn't say anything. "For Tommy's sake?"

"Fine," I groaned. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. And, for the record, I hadn't listened to Air Supply on repeat. Once, maybe, but not on repeat. "I'll be there at five."

"Excellent!" Janice said, practically squealing over the phone. "I'll see you then!" She hung up before I could say anything more.

I grumbled as I put the phone in my pocket and turned my attention back to the lawnmower. As much as it annoyed me to give into Janice, I could admit that being out of the house and having something to do seemed like a better prospect than waiting for the pizza delivery guy to show up again. I'm sure my lawn would appreciate the reprieve as well.

My mind wandered back to Sookie as I pushed the machine across my lawn. That's the problem with mindless tasks like yard work. You can get a lot accomplished without too much concentration. Maybe Janice was right. Maybe I did need to fly up to Boston and force the issue. A woman like Sookie wasn't one that I could let go of easily. I could admit that I had made a mistake by not telling her about my past. Sure, she had blown things out of proportion, but I could see where she was coming from. And, knowing her as well as I did, I knew that if she were really done with me, she wouldn't have let me touch her again like I had last Saturday night. That wasn't something you'd let just anyone do to you.

The memory of that night replayed in my mind; her hot breath in my ear, the way she had panted and whimpered my name. She'd come alive under my hands, just as she had time and time again. I wouldn't – no, couldn't believe that anyone else could do that to her. Hell, even she had admitted that I was the only one that could make her feel like that. That had to count for something, right?

I knew for my part that Sookie could do things to me that no one else could, make me feel things I hadn't thought possible. That passion, that intensity was what had started it all between us. If it hadn't been for that, we never would have gone beyond co-workers. But maybe she needed more than actions to change her mind; maybe she needed words too.

Fifteen minutes later I had resolved to follow Janice's advice. I had plenty of vacation built up, and I wasn't scheduled to start my next project for another week. I would fly up, tell her exactly where I stood and, with any luck, she'd come back with me. If she needed works, I could give her words. I could even give her the right words. I was figuring out exactly what the right words were when something caught my eye.

I looked up and blinked once, twice to make sure I wasn't imagining anything. Nope, I wasn't seeing things that weren't there. There was definitely a woman standing on my back porch; a woman that looked achingly familiar. I had stopped in my tracks, the roar of the lawn mower drowning out the words I could see her lips forming. Even from this distance I could see her eyes, scanning my face looking for an answer to some question I didn't know. I released the handle, startled by the deafening silence.

Sookie remained on the porch, immobile as I closed the distance between us. I took in her every movement, trying to find anything that would make me believe she was real and not another one of my hallucinations. She sucked her bottom lip in between her teeth as I approached, clenching and releasing her fists when I stopped at the bottom of the steps. She looked beautiful, almost painfully so in a simple white t-shirt and jeans, her hair blowing around her shoulders in loose curls.

"Hey," she said, finally breaking the silence.

"Hi," I replied, my voice brimming with the question that remained unasked.

"I hope you don't mind that I let myself in," she said. "I still had that key you gave me, and when you didn't answer the door…" she trailed off.

"What are you doing here?"

"I-uh…"she paused. "Can we go inside? Sit down? I can wait while you put a shirt on." Her eyes roamed down across my bare chest uncomfortably.

"I'm fine," I said. Good. I was glad she was uncomfortable. So was I. "Why don't we sit out here?" If we went inside, I didn't think I could keep my hands off of her. And as good as that sounded, we needed to talk before anything more happened. If anything more was going to happen.

She looked at the two chairs sitting in the shade then looked back at me uncertainly before sitting down. Her back was rigid as she sat on the edge and studied her fingernails.

"What are you doing here Sookie?" I repeated, leaning back in my chair and propping one leg on the other. Her eyes flew up to meet mine, the confusion visible. "You haven't called, or texted or anything in a week and then you show up on my porch. I've got to admit it's a little bit confusing."

"I know," she said, and let out a sigh. She was quiet for a minute, before she continued. "Copley called me."

"Oh yeah?" I asked. What in the hell did Copley Carmichael have to do with her showing up at my house? And why was that the first thing she had to say to me?

"Yes," she said, folding her hands in her lap. "He wants to buy Stackhouse Design."

She watched for my reaction – a reaction I wasn't going to give her. Not yet at least. Not until I knew what she was really doing here.

She continued. "He wants to incorporate a design team into his business and asked me to move down to Louisiana and head it up."

I sat forward before I could stop myself. So much for acting cool. The thought of Sookie moving to Louisiana had my heart racing. Was this fate throwing me a bone? Could it really be possible that Copley happened to offer her a job near my home, and she was here to tell me that she wanted to pick up where we left off? I forced myself to sit back in the chair, taking a calming breath as I reminded myself that she hadn't said anything about what she wanted us to be.

"What did you say?" I asked, unsuccessfully trying to sound nonchalant.

She looked at me and ran her hand nervously through her hair. "I said no."

"What?" I asked incredulously. "Why would you say no? That's like hitting the jackpot."

The air moved around her as she shook her head, her laughter rippling on the breeze that hit my face. "Believe me, I know. You wouldn't believe how much he offered me. More than I could have ever imagined getting from my little business."

"So why did you say no?" I asked, trying to control the anger that was rising in me. There's only one reason Sookie would say no, and his pasty, boring ass was sitting up in Boston.

"Well," she said, twisting her hands. "That's what I wanted to talk with you about." She shifted in her seat, looking anywhere but at me. "I went on a date with Bill on Tuesday."

"You flew all the way down to Shreveport to tell me you went on a date with Bill?" Had she flown down here to rub it in my face? I wouldn't have believed it of her, but then again maybe I hadn't really known her at all.

She closed her eyes and shook her head before continuing. "We were in a beautiful ballroom, at a beautiful hotel, full of the people I have always aspired to be friends with. It was elegant and civilized, and everything I have worked so hard to make for myself; to make of myself. And I was there with Bill. It was my dream come true." She opened her eyes and looked at me. Her eyes were intense as they bore into mine. "But as I sat there, talking to the people who I thought were my friends, I realized something."

She rubbed her hand across her forehead and down her cheek, resting it when she reached her neck. "No one there knew me. Not one single person. They knew Susannah Stackhouse. They knew the lie. I have spent so many years perfecting my back story that even I had started to believe it. But," she sighed, "then you came along."

_I would not make a fool out of myself._

"What are you saying Sookie?" I asked, daring to let my hopes rise again. This didn't sound like the start of a kick you in the balls again speech.

"I hid my past because I was ashamed of it, of who I was. I didn't want to be judged because I came from nothing. But the funny thing about that is that I was the worst judge of all. I judged everyone else on who they were, where they came from. If you weren't in the right circles or didn't have the right job, I didn't want anything to do with you. I didn't want to slip back into being Sookie Stackhouse. I had judged myself years ago, and I thought I came up short."

"Sookie-"

"No. Let me finish," she said, extending her arm towards me. "Who am I to judge you for not telling me about your family, or how you knew Bill? I wish you had, God knows I wish you had. But who knows what I would have done if I knew? I'm not proud of what I became. Maybe if you had, I would have only seen your status, and not the real you underneath. I sat there with Bill, making small talk with his friends, and I realized I didn't know a single thing about him. I knew that he was rich. I knew that he was kind, and gentle, but that was it. I didn't know what he liked to do on a Saturday morning; didn't know if he liked his pancakes with syrup; didn't even know if he liked pancakes. Oh, I know that sounds absurd, but I realized that I'd chased after him because of what he stood for, not who he was."

"But you," she continued, her hand falling listlessly to her lap. "You I know. I know about how you got the scar on your thumb when you were eight years old; how you like your coffee with half a spoon of sugar; how you go for runs when you need to clear your mind. And maybe most importantly, I know how you feel about me; why you like me. If you still like me."

"How can you think that I don't?" I asked, standing up and closing the distance between us. I reached down and took her hands in my own, drawing her up until the fabric of her shirt brushed across my chest.

She shrugged, looking down at our clasped hands. "I realized in that moment that I didn't want Bill. I don't think I've ever wanted Bill."

"What do you want Sookie?" I asked, my voice raw with emotion.

She looked up and smiled at me. "I thought about that. I thought about that a lot actually. After Bill dropped me off, I went up to my apartment and I sat down and figured out what it was I wanted exactly. I stayed up for hours figuring it out, and what I decided was that I want to be true to myself, if I can find myself again. To do what I want, and not what I think is proper. "

"And what do you want Sookie?" I repeated.

"You," she said simply, shrugging her shoulders. "I want you."

It was the three words I had been hoping she would say; the three words I needed to hear more than anything.

She laughed as my hands tightened on hers. As much as I had enjoyed her confession, there was one thing that was bothering me. There was one question that was left unanswered. "Then why did it take you four days to tell me? Why didn't you call?"

She pulled her hands free and took a step backwards. "Well, that's the other thing…" she trailed off.

"What?" I asked. "What else."

"I was going to call you first thing on Wednesday. But, as I said, Copley called. On Wednesday."

"And? You said you turned him down. What does that have to do with you waiting four days?"

"Yes," she said, nodding. "I said no. I knew that part of finding myself and doing what I wanted was that I needed to stay true to my vision. Being part of Carmichael Enterprises would be an amazing experience. I would get to see and do things that I couldn't dream of, but I would be following someone else's rules, and I can't do that while I'm trying to forge my own path. So I told him no, that I wouldn't sell him my business. He was disappointed, naturally, but I think we reached a good agreement."

"What'd you agree to, Sookie?" I asked warily.

"Well," she said, leaning back against the railing and looking up at me. "While I'm keeping my business, we've signed a contract that I'll work exclusively on his next five projects. There's just one little catch. Well two really."

"What?"

"I told him I wouldn't do it if I couldn't work with you as my GC."

"You did what?" I asked. "Sookie. You don't say that to a man like Copley Carmichael."

She shrugged. "I can't claim all the credit. I think it was what he wanted all along. Either way, he agreed to it. So did your dad apparently. He's supposed to tell you about that on Monday."

"Mother fucker," I growled. "My father knew about this and didn't tell me? When were you all going to clue me in on this?"

"I have to take credit for that," she said. "I asked them not to tell you. I wanted to tell you myself; in person. I know I should have called, but… well, there's just the other catch."

"What's that?"

"Looks like I'll be needing a place to stay while I'm here." She nodded at the wall behind me. "And since you've got this big old rambling place, and it's just little bitty old me, I was kind of hoping that you'd be willing to rent me a room?"

I closed the distance between us, placing my hands on either side of her hips on the railing. "I don't know about that," I said, brushing my lips across her temple. "I don't let just anyone sleep at my house."

"Oh, I know!" she said. Her laughter filled the humid air around us, her breath brushing across my cheek. "I can be real quiet if you'd like."

"I'd beg to differ Princess." I leaned forward, lowering my lips to her ear. "You aren't any good at being quiet when I'm around."

"Well, even if I can't be quiet, I can pay anything you ask," she said, clasping onto my wrists. "Anything you want."

"Anything I want?" I asked, eliciting a groan as my mouth latched onto her earlobe.

"Mmm hmmm," she mumbled, nodding. "Anything."

"Well, I'm quite particular about my form of payment. And I'm afraid all the rooms are taken, except for one."

"Which one's that?" she asked with a laugh.

"Mine," I whispered. "Do you have a problem with that?"

She shook her head. "I was kind of hoping you'd say that."

"Good." I closed the gap between our lips, needing to taste her again. "Now, about that payment…" I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her tightly against me. "First and last month's payment is due now."

She looked up at me and bit her bottom lip. "Oh! Well I don't have my wallet with me," she said innocently. "Maybe we could come up with a way to work that out? I'm real good at solving these kinds of problems," she teased.

"Maybe," I growled, picking her up and walking through the open screen door. "I'm not too big on traditional forms of payment anyway. I believe we can reach a solution."

She nodded into my neck, nipping at my collar bone. "There's one more thing," she said seriously.

I stopped in my tracks, looking down at her face. "What?" I asked. "Is it something I want to know?"

"I think so," she said cautiously. "I hope so."

"What is it Sookie?" I asked, setting her down on her feet but not letting her go.

"I can't come down here without telling you everything. You made me see what I was missing. You introduced me to myself, and I can never say thank you enough. And as I was sitting there next to Bill, thinking about how much I hated everything around me, I realized something else that night," she said solemnly. "Something that surprised me. Something that you need to know."

I cocked my eyebrow in question, not taking my eyes off her face.

"I love you Alcide Herveaux," she said, smiling up at me. "Lord knows I didn't plan it, but I do."

I was at a loss for words. The three words she'd said before – the words about wanting me – I had thought those were the three words I'd wanted to hear. I was wrong.

"Well?" she asked nervously.

"I love you too," I said, my voice rough like sandpaper. "Sookie." I pulled her tightly against me, feeling every inch of her body against mine. The skin of her arms was soft against the rough skin on my palms. It was everything I remembered, and somehow more.

She tipped her head back and looked into my eyes, her blue orbs sparkling with laughter. "Good. Now that that's settled," she said, dropping her hands lower on my back. "About that room…"

**AN:** And so ends the tale of Alcide and Sookie. Looks like they put their tools to good use, eh?

I can't even begin to express how excited I am that this story got such a good response. For a story that only had a surprise Eric cameo (you knew that was Eric, right?), I would have been amazed if three people read it. Needless to say, I'm amazed by all you lovely readers. Thank you to everyone who has read this – hopefully I managed to expand your SVM universe a bit!

I'll be back next week with the main man Eric in a brand new (non-cowboy!) story. Stay tuned Bat Fans!


	25. Five Months Later

There's a time for love and a time for living.

You take a chance and face the wind.

An open road and a road that's hidden a brand new life around the bend.

There were times when I lost a dream or two.

Found the trail, and at the end was you.

~Who's The Boss Theme Song

* * *

The loud sound of a lone hammer echoed throughout the empty building, matched only by the clack of my heels on the hardwood floor as I neared its source.

I smiled to myself as I looked at the putty colored walls around me, remembering the empty warehouse that Copley Carmichael had so proudly displayed to me all those months ago. The building had a sense of history - once the highest producing cotton mill in the state of Texas – and being given the opportunity to envision and execute the renovation of the large property into a series of shops, offices and lofts was beyond anything I could have imagined. It was the job of the year as far as any stateside design firm was concerned – an unlimited budget; access to the best materials and the promise of an immense, historical property under your belt was too much for many to pass up. I, however, was the one lucky enough to execute it.

True, the completion of the Belle Rive property and the subsequent success attributable to the spread in _Wallpaper_ hadn't hurt my chances of Copley choosing Stackhouse Design for the job, but then again I could attribute so very much to that one job. Life was funny in that way I supposed. I hadn't expected my time in Bon Temps to change my life – or, if I had, certainly not in the way it had.

As I rounded the corner, I couldn't help but smile at what I saw. The Belle Rive project had given me professional success, and the chance to work on jobs I could have only dreamed of before. But I had learned on that project that there was something more important than winning a job, or being respected in the community I had so desperately wanted to join, and that one thing was standing alone in the oversized lobby, hammer in hand.

The sight of Alcide Herveaux still managed to take my breath away from time to time. It didn't seem to matter how many times I'd come across him just like this, or the fact that we slept in the same bed and ate at the same table. He had a way of making my chest feel tight, and my legs feel less than solid.

Despite having worked on a number of projects together since my move to Shreveport, we hadn't worked this closely on a project since Belle Rive. Copley had kept us busy, undoubtedly, but I had stayed mostly on the conceptual side, where Alcide and his crew had done the dirty work. This was the first project I had unburied myself for; it was an important project to Copley, and it was an important project to me too.

Working hand in hand with Alcide on site over the past few days was proving more difficult than I had imagined. Where we had barely been able to control my impulses in Bon Temps, it took every ounce of restraint I had to keep things professional on the job here. It was so tempting to walk up behind him and run my hand down his arm or through his hair, but I wouldn't do that with Dawson, and I couldn't do it with Alcide. Everyone knew we were together, which made it all the more important that we keep things professional.

But on a night like this, when we were the last two people on site, I could allow myself to let my guard down a little bit.

His hand stopped in mid motion, the echo of the last strike of his hammer reverberating in the otherwise silence of the room. When he turned to face me, his trademark crooked smile crossed his face.

"Coming to check up on me?" he asked, setting the hammer down on his workbench.

I shrugged and leaned against the doorframe. "I couldn't believe my ears when I got off my call and heard someone still hard at work at eight o'clock on a Friday night."

"Well," he shrugged, leaning back against his bench. "The boss lady's a real hard-ass sometimes. If I don't do what she tells me, I never hear the end of it."

"It's a tough job, but someone's got to do it."

"Mmm hmm." He ran a large hand through his hair, pushing the stray black strands back off his forehead. "You plannin' to boss me around?"

"Maybe." I looked away from him to the framing studs that lined the long wall. "I would have thought you'd have a bit more done by now. It has been…" I checked my watch and tried to stop myself from smiling. "Three hours since I left you."

He shook his head, shoving his hands into his pockets and rocking back and forth on his feet. "Has it been that long?"

I pushed off from the wall, exaggerating the sway of my hips as I crossed the room towards him, coming to a stop when the cotton of my pencil skirt brushed against the rough denim of his jeans. I leaned towards him, lowering my voice to barely above a whisper. "A hard-ass? I thought you said you liked me a little bit controlling?"

His laughter echoed in the empty room and he lowered his head until our foreheads met. "You got me there."

"Well," I smirked, "since you're the last man on the job, I suppose you deserve a reward."

"A reward? Anything particular in mind?"

"Maybe." I reached up and ran my hand across his bicep. "What do you say that we get out of here and go give that jacuzzi a spin in our hotel room?"

"I don't think I can wait that long, Princess." He closed the gap between our mouths, his lips brushing against mine once, twice before he deepened the kiss to something more substantial. I felt myself melt against him, the bands of his arms snaking around my body to keep me upright. I wondered if the intensity would ever diminish; if I would ever be able to kiss Alcide without feeling like this. It had been five months since I'd unpacked my last box and made my move to Shreveport official. That was five months of kissing and…more any time I wanted, and it hadn't changed at all.

His grip loosened, his hands traveling to places on my body that weren't so much for support as exploration. I stumbled over my heels as he maneuvered me towards his workbench, chuckling against his lips when he let out a low growl.

"How many times do I have to tell you that those aren't the kind of shoes you should be wearing on the job?" he asked, lifting me easily from the floor.

"I thought you liked my shoes," I teased, wrapping my arms around his neck for additional support.

"I do," he nodded, depositing me on the top of the table. "And so does Max, and so does Victor, and Copley. Hell, my Dad made a comment about 'em yesterday." His hands traveled down my legs to the offending tan objects in question. "Sometimes, Miz Stackhouse, you're just too damn sexy on the job for your own good." He plucked off one, and then the other before nudging my legs apart and stepping between them.

"I can't say I've ever had that particular complaint before," I shrugged, leaning back on my arms.

"I don't reckon you have. But," he leaned down and nipped at my exposed collarbone, "then again you haven't worked with someone as candid as me. Have I told you how much it kills me to see you all dolled up and professional like and have to keep my hands off you?"

"I do seem to recall you mentioning that recently." As recently as that morning when we were leaving for work.

"And then you've got to wear those shoes?" he inclined his head in the direction of the very expensive leather straps lying haphazardly on the floor. "And this top?" He hooked his finger into the neckline of my blouse, tugging it down to expose the tops of my breasts. He raised his eyes to meet mine, their green depths heated with desire. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to tempt me."

The thought had crossed my mind.

The rough pads of his fingers traveled across the sensitive skin on my chest, and I let out a gasp when one dipped into the lace of my bra. "We should…go to the hotel."

He shook his head, his eyes never leaving mine as his fingers continued their exploration. "I can't wait for the hotel."

"We can't here."

"Why not?" One eyebrow rose high on his forehead in question as he lowered his face towards mine. "No one's here."

"We agreed to keep things strictly professional on this job."

A chuckle escaped his lips. "And you think this is professional?" His eyes dipped down to where his fingers were on my chest, inside my shirt.

I shook my head and pushed myself to a more upright position, effectively pushing my breasts further into his palms in the process. With great reluctance, I took his wrists and removed his hands from their nesting place. "I got carried away."

"Sook." His voice was rough, and he stood in place, refusing to budge.

"We can't," I repeated.

"It didn't hurt us last time we worked together. In fact, I believe that was lauded as your best work ever."

"You have a point." I lifted my hands to his chest, and gently pushed him away. "But Belle Rive was in the middle of nowhere. You never know who's going to walk in here. Plus the longer we argue, the longer it will be until we can get back to the hotel."

The expression that crossed his face could only be defined as a pout, and I stamped down the smile that was tugging the corners of my mouth.

"Come on." I hopped down from my position on the table. "I just need to grab my bag and then we can be on our way. We've got the entire weekend to ourselves."

"Not true," he grumbled. "We have to go to that benefit tomorrow."

"Which will take no more than five hours. That's still nearly the entire weekend." I rolled my eyes when his lips turned down in a frown. "We've got to eat sometime."

"True," he stepped forward, wrapping his arms around me once more. "But I like it a hell of a lot better when it's just you and me, and not one hundred of our closest 'friends'."

"You'd have us live like hermits if it was up to you," I laughed, standing on my tiptoes and kissing his cheek.

"If it meant just you and me and a lot less of these." He tugged at the waistband of my skirt. "Then I'd say we go buy our own island somewhere in the tropics and tell everyone to fuck off."

"I guess that's something we can aspire to someday. But now…" I pushed out of his arms, and walked around him to gather my shoes. "Now we're wasting valuable alone time. And I don't know about you, but I'm ready to pick up where we left off."

…

The benefit was in full swing by the time Alcide pulled our rented SUV into the parking lot of Dallas' W hotel, thanks in large part to the stall tactics of the man behind the wheel.

I checked my reflection in the vanity mirror one more time, assuring myself that my lipstick was in place and tucking a stray lock of blonde hair back into the chignon at the nape of my neck. When I was satisfied with my reflection, I looked over to see Alcide watching me, a smile on his face.

"What?"

"Nothing," he shrugged, his smile broadening.

I narrowed my eyes and shook my head. "Don't you _nothing _me, Alcide Herveaux."

"You don't want to know."

"I'm fairly sure I do." I glanced back in the mirror to verify that there was nothing wrong. When he didn't answer I turned back to face him. "Alcide!"

"Fine. I was just thinking about how much I like when you get all gussied up like this."

Sounded innocent enough, which was exactly why I knew there was more to it. Alcide was plenty of things, but innocent wasn't one of them.

"Why?"

"You don't want me to say, Princess. I promise."

"I am sure whatever it is, I can handle it Herveaux."

"Herveaux is it?" he chuckled. "Is the Ice Princess coming out?"

"Alcide!"

"Fine." He reached down and unlatched his seatbelt, then turned and did the same to mine. His lips were mere centimeters from my ear when he continued in a whisper. "I like when you get all gussied up like that cause it makes me think how fun it'll be to undo it all and get you naked again."

"While that is a lovely sentiment, I know you too well. You just want to get out of that suit," I responded with a kiss. "You don't fool me."

I hopped out of the car and made my way to his side on my sky-high strappy heels. He grumbled as he climbed out of the driver's seat and shut the door behind him.

"You look very handsome," I said, stepping towards him and straightening out his tie.

"I look like a waiter."

"You look nothing like a waiter." The suit was cut to perfection, thanks to the assistance of Lafayette's tailor. He looked polished, expensive, and downright dangerous under the layers. "In fact," I continued, "I wouldn't be surprised if Amelia doesn't try and corner you tonight."

His groan was audible at the mention of Amelia's name. Despite nearly the entire world knowing the status of our relationship, Amelia hadn't given up hope. We'd run into her from time to time, and I had to admit that I enjoyed watching Alcide squirm under her overt advances. I was secure enough in my feelings towards Alcide – and more importantly, his feelings towards me – to bother worrying about any damage Amelia could possibly do.

"She gets a little too handsy, Sook."

"I know," I chuckled, then shook my head with mock solemnity. "But that's what you get for being so ruggedly good looking."

I reached down and grabbed his hand, tugging him along behind me.

"You have to promise to come get me if she corners me again."

"I promise," I nodded, squeezing his hand and suppressing my smile at the thought of little me rescuing someone of Alcide's size.

"She grabbed my balls last time."

I bit my lip to stop from laughing. While my initial reaction to that news at the time hadn't been amusement, two months later I couldn't help laughing at the terror such a tiny woman could strike in Alcide's heart.

We stopped at the doorway of the large ballroom and I looked up at him with a smile on my face. "I promise your balls will only be touched by me tonight."

"You better see to that, Stackhouse."

…

The Carmichael Foundation was one of the leading arts supporters in the South, and the recent contributions to the Dallas Symphony Orchestra had garnered the Foundation a lot of goodwill in the community. So much goodwill, that the ballroom was full of any number of local celebrities.

Alcide's unease at being at the event lessened after his first beer and a conversation with the star quarterback of the Cowboys. Funny how far a little man-talk went to put him at ease.

Copley kept me busy, introducing me to the local contractors and developers, all of whom were eager to hear about the renovation project we were working on. In a world dominated by men, I was a bit of a novelty, and I used it to my advantage. By the time we were finished with dinner, I had exchanged business cards with five prospective clients, and had been promised a walk-through of a new apartment project in the heart of Fort Worth.

"Having fun?" I asked, sinking down in the seat next to Alcide. Almost immediately after dinner, right as the music had started, Copley had insisted upon introducing me to the head of his corporate events team to discuss how we were going to mark the opening of the mill project. Alcide had been deep in conversation with one of the city councilmen, safe enough from Amelia's lurking presence for me to leave him alone.

"I'd have more fun if we were out of here," he replied honestly.

I rested my hand on the top of his thigh and leaned into his oversized frame for a quick break from the activity around us. "Just another hour and then I think we're good to go."

He nodded, his chin brushing against the top of my head. "Cope make you put on the dog and pony show for his investors?"

I shrugged and sat up. "It's all part of the territory."

"And I'm sure it doesn't hurt that you're as good looking as you are."

"Like you're one to talk," I laughed. "The mayor's wife was practically devouring you with her eyes."

"Halleigh?"

"Yes, Halleigh," I shook my head. "I thought she might steal you away if I left you alone with her."

"You don't have to worry about that, Stackhouse. Not looking the way you do tonight."

"Oh aren't you sweet?"

"I'm many things," he said, standing up and tugging me hand until I did the same. "But sweet ain't one of them. I have my ulterior motives."

He led me out to the dance floor, pulling me flush against his body as the strains of a slow country song began pouring out of the speakers. I relaxed into him with a sigh, relishing the opportunity to be this close; to touch him like this. Despite having been "out" as a couple for a long time, there were few socially acceptable opportunities for us to act like one. At most events, we spent most of my time talking business with Copley and his associates, and we'd been so busy between jobs that we'd not had much of an opportunity or the inclination to do anything more adventurous than bowling nights with Janice and Dell.

We stayed out through another slow song and two fast before Alcide pulled me off the dance floor and excused himself to the restroom. As I made my way to the bar to refill my glass of champagne, I noticed Russell Edgington standing alone for the first time in the evening. Lafayette and Andre had taken control of his niece Sophie Anne's apartment during Belle Rive and my move, and I hadn't seen Russell in person since completion.

He greeted me with a smile, taking each of my hands in his own and leaning in to brush a kiss across my cheek.

"Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes Susannah?" His drawl was pronounced as he said my full name. It had been so long since I'd been addressed as such, it sounded weird, almost foreign to me. "You're looking as lovely as ever."

"Thank you," I replied with a smile. Russell had been one of Stackhouse Design's first customers, and remained one of my favorites. He was eccentric, eclectic and incredibly sophisticated when it came to design concept. "I feel like I haven't seen you in forever."

"That's because you haven't," he chided, squeezing my hands in his. "Talbot was just asking about you the other day; wondering why you hadn't been around. We couldn't understand why you'd want to leave Boston and move down to Shreveport, Louisiana of all places. But," he leaned in and lowered his voice, "I completely understand after seeing the man in question. Mr. Herveaux is it?" He waggled his eyebrows conspiratorially.

I felt myself blush and couldn't suppress the goofy smile from covering my face. "Alcide. Though he was only part of the equation as you well know."

"He could be the entire equation as far as I'm concerned." His eyes scanned the crowd. "And where did your Mr. Herveaux run off to? I was hoping I'd get an introduction; get to admire him up close and personal."

I shook my head and laughed. "You're terrible, Russell."

"I'm an appreciator of beauty," he countered. "And that man of yours is a thing of beauty."

"He's around here somewhere." I turned to survey the crowd. Alcide should have returned by now, and I wasn't far enough from where he'd left me for him to have lost me.

"Isn't that him there?" Russell asked, inclining his head towards the doors that lead to the hallway. My shoulders shook with mirth at the sight before me.

"Yes, that's him alright." And he wasn't alone. As I had hopped at the opportunity to get Russell alone, Amelia and her teeny tiny dress had done the same with my boyfriend.

"What in the world is Miss Carmichael doing?" Russell asked, cocking his head to the side.

"It looks like she's trying to seduce him," I replied matter-of-factly.

"And you're going to sit here and watch?" Russell sounded more confused by the minute.

"Only for a bit," I shrugged. "Her tactics get more and more amusing every time we run into her. Last time she had him backed into the corner like a caged animal. I got there just in time to stop her from shoving her hands in his pants."

"She didn't!" Russell gasped.

"Oh yes, she did." The scene before us escalated quickly, Alcide's normally calm demeanor replaced by visible panic as Amelia slithered towards him, whispering what I could only imagine were scandalous suggestions by the look on his face.

When I thought she'd done enough damage, I set my drink down on the table beside us and turned back to face Russell. "If you'll excuse me?"

"But of course," he replied, leaning in to brush a kiss across my cheek. "You go show that piece what a real lady is."

"That's the plan," I responded with a smile.

I took my time as I made my way to Alcide and Amelia, stopping to get our belongings from the coat check and say goodbye to Copley. Based on the past, I knew Alcide would be able to fend her off on his own for enough time to take care of all the niceties. After I said my last goodbye, I headed back to the hallway to break up her imagined party, taking in every inch of her wardrobe, from the top of her overly teased hair, down the hot pink leather dress and the five inch heeled boots that adorned her feet. I wondered what Copley thought when he looked at his daughter, and thought that my own father, God bless his soul, would have shot me if I dared to exit the house in anything like that. There was a time and a place for an outfit like that, and that mostly involved a street corner and an exchange of money.

"Oh there you are!" I called out when I was only a few feet from the two of them. Alcide turned to look over his shoulder, his eyes full of relief at the sight of me. Amelia, on the other hand, looked as if she would gladly have my head on a platter. It was a look I was used to from her.

"I was afraid you'd gotten lost on the way back," I smiled up at Alcide. He scowled in response. I wrapped my arms firmly about his waist, nuzzling my head into his chest before addressing Amelia. "Oh, hello Amelia."

"Hello Susannah," she scowled.

"Funny you two running into each other like this," I smiled. "Again."

"Isn't it though?" She leaned forward, displaying even more of her chest that was already threatening to spill out of her top. "Alcide and I are always just drawn to each other at these things."

"Like magnets!" I exclaimed, trying not to laugh as Alcide squeezed my arm.

"It's an attraction alright," Amelia said.

"Well," I sighed. "I hate to pull Alcide away from such a thrilling conversation I'm sure, but I'm downright exhausted. And since we came in the same car, I just can't wait for Alcide to get me to bed," I shrugged innocently. "I'm sure you understand."

Amelia didn't say anything to me, instead turning to face Alcide. "I'm more than willing to give you a ride."

What a bitch.

Alcide cleared his throat and opened his mouth to respond. "Oh I wouldn't dream of inconveniencing you," I interrupted. "Besides, Alcide already promised he'd give _me_ a ride."

Amelia narrowed her eyes in my direction and crossed her arm in a petulant huff. She turned back to Alcide. "Whenever you're done with her, you know where to find me." She turned dramatically on her heel and I stood in place to watch her walk away, letting go of my death grip on Alcide when she disappeared into the crowd on the dance floor.

"You ready?" I asked, looking up at Alcide's face.

He nodded, reaching down to help me into my evening coat.

"How long did you let me squirm this time?" he asked, smoothing the back of my coat across my shoulders.

"Not too long," I replied with a chuckle, turning around to look up into his eyes. "Ten minutes?"

"Ten minutes! She could've drugged me and had her way with me in ten minutes."

"But she didn't," I pointed out. "I had to say goodbye for us; gather our things…"

"All of which we could have done together."

"True," I shrugged, tucking my hand into the crook of his arm as we made our way to the front door. "I'll have to remember that for next time."

"I'm never coming back to one of these things," he swore, as he had done so many times before.

"Oh come on, Alcide." I climbed into the waiting car and looked up at him as he held the door for me. "You know you enjoy it as much as I do."

He shut the door, walking around to the driver's side and starting the car before he responded.

"You know I hate it. You owe me, Stackhouse."

"I hardly owe you. It's your business too."

"How is Amelia trying to get her hands down my pants business?"

"Good point," I chuckled. "But it's very entertaining."

"Isn't it some rule that my girlfriend should stand up for me? Pull some hair, scratch her face or something to defend my honor?"

"You're 6'5" and twice my weight. I think you can defend your own honor, Alcide."

"Fine." He pulled onto the highway that led out of downtown and towards our hotel in the northern suburb. "But you're going to need to do something to erase the suggestions she made to me tonight."

"Already planning it, Herveaux. Already planning it."

I leaned across the gearbox, whispering exactly what I had in mind in his ear and let out a belt of laughter when his hands tightened on the wheel, the speedometer needle jumping up well above the speed limit.

Alcide's driving, normally well within the confines of the law, would have done Mario Andretti proud. The drive that had taken us twenty-five minutes in, only took fifteen minutes back, and the wheels squealed as he pulled into the parking lot.

He was a man on a mission, and if I had been less sure on my own feet, I would have undoubtedly fallen flat on my face as Alcide dragged me through the parking lot. The employees manning the front desk greeted us with a friendly smile (and even a howdy from one enthusiastic native Texan) when we stepped into the lobby. I was sure we made quite the sight, Alcide's face set in determination as he stormed across the marble floor, me scurrying behind him.

He didn't say a word on our elevator ride to the fourth floor, and I couldn't stop my giggle when I noticed the tick in his jaw as he looked straight ahead. I was rewarded with a warning look that wiped the smile off of my face.

"You are in so much trouble, Princess," he drawled, the gravely tone of his voice weakening my knees. He stepped closer, pulling me not exactly gently to his side and running a proprietary hand along my spine. "Do you think you can handle it?"

A lump formed at the back of my throat, making it hard to respond. I swallowed and nodded against the cotton of his shirt.

"Good."

The doors slid open, revealing the long empty hallway before us. Our room was at the end, a corner room like I always requested. He nudged me forward, his hand staying at the small of my back the entire way to our door.

I reached into my clutch, fumbling for my wallet and the credit card key I kept inside. My fingers brushed against the normally organized contents, all of which seemed to have doubled in size for the luck I was having at finding what I was looking for.

"I've got it," Alcide's voice said from behind me, much closer than I had imagined. His breath danced across the nape of my neck and his arm reached around my body, key in hand to open the door.

No sooner was the door closed behind us than he was on me. His lips crashed into mine, quick and possessive, leaving me feeling breathless. My evening clutch dropped to the floor in an unceremonious thud, the contents spilling onto the floor, but I didn't care.

"I want you," he panted. "Now."

I couldn't do anything more than nod as he stepped back I watched him kick out of his shoes. My own heels dropped off my feet when he closed the gap and lifted me off my feet – apparently I wasn't moving quickly enough for him.

He barreled down the short hallway separating the main living room from our bedroom, and his lips reclaimed mine as he crossed through the doorway.

Our clothes were removed in short order through a series of fumbling hands and lips, dropped haphazardly in our wake as we moved towards the king sized bed and I did exactly what I had promised.

I rested my head on his chest when we had sated each other's bodies, my fingertips dancing across his bare chest as I tried to catch my breath.

"Wow," he said, pulling me tightly against his body.

"You can say that again," I laughed, propping my chin on my hands to look up at him.

"When's the next one of these little shindigs?"

"I have no idea. Why?" My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "I thought you said you never wanted to go to one of these again."

"That was before that," he nodded in my direction, his hand skimming down my side and resting when he came to the bottom of my breast. "For that I'm willing to let Amelia see me naked any time you'd like."

"I'll have to keep that in mind."

He laughed, pulling me against him and rolling us until he was positioned above me. "You wouldn't dare."

"Don't try me, Herveaux," I warned.

"What am I going to do with you?" he asked, nuzzling his face into my neck.

"I have a few ideas," I started, my breath catching in my throat as his hands skirted down my sides.

"You'll have to tell me about those sometime."

"I'd be happy to. The first involves you, me and the –"

"Later," he shook his head with a chuckle. "You showed me what you can do, and now it's my turn."

And show me he did.

* * *

**AN:** And there's a quick peak into Heat Alcide and Sookie a few months down the road. As many people know, this story is near and dear to my heart and one of my very favorite stories I have written to date. Needless to say, I was extremely thrilled when I received the request from the fangreader's chatroom notified me that Heat had been selected to be a featured story in their chat room. The chat is this Tuesday, April 26th at 9 pm EST. I plan on logging on to answer any questions, so if you're dying to know what in the heck that stupid tile looked like, you can log on here: http : / fangreaders (dot) blogspot (dot) com/

It is a private chatroom, so make sure to sign up for it if you aren't a member already.

Now, enough shameless self-promotion. Time to promote **pfloogs72, **pre-reader extraordinaire. You should check out her Home Sweet Home entries (Voodoo!) and just about everything else she writes. For her, I say…Grrrr. Thrust, thrust. Liquid. Fluid. ANNNDDDD done


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